The Mentalist: Ruby Tears
by Donnamour1969
Summary: A disturbed young woman pursues Jane. He must convince Lisbon that the teen isn't as innocent as she seems, before he too gets caught in her trap. Set in Season 5. Drama/Jisbon romance. Rated T/M for adult content, language, and sexuality.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story was not something, once I thought of it, that I was anxious to pursue. But the more I thought about it, and the more my friend, Nerwen Aldarion encouraged me (okay, BUGGED me), the more I couldn't get it out of my head. So, here it is. Some of the idea was stolen from _Lolita, _some from other movies like _The Crush, _but there is a major difference here—Jane will not be tempted by this girl. So don't worry, if that was a concern of yours. It will be all one-sided on her part, I promise. This is considerably darker than my usual fare, but I don't think I can go on without a bit of comic relief from time to time. There will be Jisbon as well, so hang in there.

Thanks for reading yet another of my stories. And for those new to my work, welcome!

**Ruby Tears**

_ From "The Little Girl Lost"_

Leopards, tigers, play  
Round her as she lay;  
While the lion old  
Bowed his mane of gold,

And her bosom lick,  
And upon her neck,  
From his eyes of flame,  
Ruby tears there came;

~William Blake

**Chapter 1**

"This is Mr. Jane, Cherish," said the young girl's mother, her voice shaking with emotion. "He's the one who figured out where you were being held."

Cherish looked up at Jane, her blue eyes large and welling in her gamine face. Knowing instinctively what was coming, Jane stepped back a pace, but it was too little too late, for the girl hurled herself at him in a rush of police blankets and flying pigtails.

"Thank you!" she whispered against his chest, hugging him for all she was worth. Jane stood there awkwardly, his hands at his side. He caught Lisbon's eyes, noting the amusement at his plight, but also their glossiness from her own barely checked emotion. They'd saved Cherish-all of the team had-but it was Jane's insight into the mind of a kidnapper that had led to this moment, and Lisbon shuddered to think what would have happened to the girl if they had not found her when they had.

Lisbon nodded once in encouragement, so Jane patted Cherish's slim back in tentative consolation. After a moment, when he tried to politely extricate himself, the girl held on even more tightly, and, laughing tearfully, her mother came to Jane's rescue, pulling her daughter gently away from her savior.

"Thank, you, Mr. Jane. From the bottom of my heart—I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost her."

"Happy to have helped," Jane muttered uncomfortably. Cherish continued to stare at him, tears falling unabated down her pale cheeks, even looking back at him over her shoulder as her mother led her to the waiting ambulance. It would take her to the hospital for a full examination and rape kit.

Lisbon joined him as they watched mother and child depart. She reached out and touched his hand as the police car lights flashed in the darkness around them.

"Hey," she said. "You did a great thing. You deserve their gratitude."

Jane shrugged. Nothing he thought to say would be adequate. _All in a day's work? I was just doing my job? This doesn't come close to making up for all the horrible things I've done in my life?_

"Well, I'm grateful too," she said. "We were at a dead end with this case, and if you hadn't—"

"Lisbon, please," he protested weakly, holding up a hand in defeat. "I'm glad we found her. Can we please just skip to the closed-case pizza and be done with it?"

She grinned. "Okay," she said softly. "When Cho's finished grilling him down at HQ, we'll order some pizza. My treat this time."

This was enough to bring forth a grin; she must have forgotten that it was actually his turn to pay.

"Double pepperoni?" he asked.

She made a face at the prospect of all the extra fat, but said, "Sure."

"You know, Lisbon," he told her as they strolled back to the CBI SUV. "There was something not quite right about this whole thing."

"Aside from the fact that a sicko creep had abducted and held a young girl against her will for a week?"

"Yes," he said thoughtfully, ignoring her sarcasm. "It's the kidnapper, Roberts. He protested he hadn't done anything from the moment you guys busted into his house."

"What else would he have said, Jane?"

"I don't know. I know he was caught red-handed, but I have the nagging feeling he was telling the truth."

"Well, we'll let a jury of his peers decide," she said.

Even though Jane had been right on everything else in this case, she had seen with her own eyes the depravity on display in the man's house. He had a room that looked like a scene from _Fifty Shades of Grey_—not that she'd read the book, of course—but there was all sorts of S&M paraphernalia and other sex toys hanging on the walls, and a king-sized, four-poster bed equipped with manacles at each post. She shivered in disgust just thinking of what that poor girl must have gone through.

"Whatever you say," said Jane, but he was somber again as they drove back to the CBI.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cho was already interrogating their suspect as Jane entered the observation room.

"I'm telling you," said Jimmy Roberts, "she wanted this. _She_ came to me."

Cho gave him his trademark cold stare. "You're telling me that a seventeen-year-old girl approached you, a forty-five year old man, for S&M? You weren't stalking her at her school, watching and waiting for your chance to abduct her?"

"No!" said the man, clearly horrified. "She found me on the internet, on a sex chat site. She told me she was eighteen…"

"We have witnesses that say they saw you push her into your van and drive away from the school."

"That was part of the game, the scenario we planned together. She was supposed to be the innocent schoolgirl, and wear her uniform and everything. You can check my computer; it's all there."

"We'll do that," said Cho. "If what you say is true, how do you explain her not being in contact with her mother for a week?"

"What? I had no idea. She said her parents were out of town. I assumed she called them. She wasn't a prisoner, I swear. She could have left anytime. And we had…safe words."

Cho raised an eyebrow. "Were any of those words, _stop, I want to go home_?"

"Where's my goddamn lawyer?" replied the man angrily, and Cho could tell he was clamming up for good now.

"You might want to hold off on that pizza; he's telling the truth," said Jane on the other side of the window. He was certain of it now.

Beside him, Lisbon had her arms folded across her chest. She clearly wasn't buying it.

"I'll wait for the rape kit," she said skeptically.

"Okay," he said. "Your call."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"See," said Lisbon, a few hours later. "I told you so. Preliminary examinations from the hospital show that she was raped, violently and repeatedly. She has bruises all over her body. Plus, We're just waiting for the DNA tests, but I'm convinced he did it. I hope that bastard rots."

Jane was sitting on his couch, calmly drinking his tea. She handed him the fax that was sent over from the hospital. He set down his cup and examined the report closely for a few minutes.

"This could be explained by rough sex," he said.

"What?"

"You heard me. Don't be naïve, Lisbon. Teenagers today are all kinds of screwed up."

"I can't believe you're actually blaming the victim, here. She's only a child—"

"I want to talk to her," he interrupted.

Lisbon, still shocked at his contentions, shook her head. "Her mother says she's too distraught for questioning. Give her a day or two to calm down."

"Fine. But you might want to keep an open mind, Lisbon."

She paused, her eyes narrowing. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're obviously uncomfortable with this topic."

"Rape of a minor—yeah, that makes me pretty damn uncomfortable."

She watched a brief light of amusement flicker in his eyes, then fade so quickly she might have imagined it.

"I'll know for sure when I talk to her. I assume you'll press for Ardilles to indict Mr. Roberts?"

"Yes."

Jane nodded. "You can't wait a day or two?"

"I can only hold him so long without charging him, Jane. Even if this were consensual—which I highly doubt—we still have him for statutory rape. He admitted they'd had sex."

"Hmm," said Jane noncommittally. Lisbon stood staring at him, wishing not for the first time that she could read him as easily as he could read her.

"I think you're wrong about this, Jane."  
"I hope I'm right though, because that would mean this girl wasn't raped and tortured for a week. I thought _you_ were generally the optimistic one."

"Maybe so, but I'm also a realist. Either way, this man is a sick, sick individual, and he'll do time for it, if it's the last thing I do."

"Hmm."

She blew out a breath in exasperation at his attitude, then turned on her heel and left the bullpen. Thoughtfully, Jane tossed the hospital report on the couch beside him and picked up his tea again. He was pleased to note it was now the perfect temperature for sipping.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day, Jimmy Roberts was being held on a federal complaint of kidnapping and a state charge of statutory rape. Everyone was waiting for Cherish Barto's statement to make it an open and shut case, and the DNA test results would be the final nail in Roberts's coffin. So it was with great surprise that Jane saw the girl entering the bullpen that morning carrying a cloth-covered basket.

She looked much different from the seemingly traumatized rape victim of the night before. Her long, dark hair was shiny now, and held back by a pink headband, her face scrubbed clean, devoid of cosmetics. She wore a black skirt, pink flowered blouse, and Mary Jane patent leather shoes. Just beneath her sleeves, he could see the red marks on her wrists that only came from tight handcuffs, but other than that, she looked none the worse for wear. It remained to be seen, however, what she had suffered on the inside.

Her mother close behind her, Cherish approached Jane on his couch. He rose respectfully.

"Mr. Jane," she began timidly. "Agent Lisbon told me you like blueberry muffins, so…I made you some myself." She held out the basket.

Jane looked directly into Cherish's guileless blue eyes, trying to break past the innocent facade. And it _was_ a façade—he was quite sure of it. As Lisbon came into the bullpen, he took the proffered basket. At her desk, Van Pelt looked a little misty eyed, and Lisbon smiled at the girl's touching gesture of gratitude.

"Thank you, Cherish," he said with a benign smile. "That wasn't necessary."

The girl shrugged. "You saved me," she said simply.

"Hmm," came the noncommittal sound he'd been making more and more of late. Behind Cherish and her mother, Lisbon frowned.

"Let's go where we can have some privacy," Lisbon said.

"You'll have to speak to ADA Ardilles as well," said Jane, testing her. "He'll want to hear your story himself. Will it be too…painful to repeat again?"

"No," she said, trying to sound brave. "I can do it."

Jane nodded. "Good. Shall we?" He held out his hand for the two visitors and Lisbon to precede him. He handed the basket off to Rigsby on the way past his desk.

"Cool," muttered the agent. Cho rolled his chair backward to retrieve a muffin of his own.

Lisbon and Jane would take Cherish's statement. Well, to Jane, he had more of an interrogation in mind.

"Okay," began Lisbon delicately, once they had all sat down around the interrogation room table. "Just tell us what happened, from the day you were taken." She pressed a button on a small machine. "I'm sorry, but I have to record this."

"That's okay," said Cherish. She glanced at the one-way window of the interrogation room. "Is there anyone else watching?"

"No," said Lisbon. "It's just us. You ready?"

Cherish looked at her mother, who squeezed her hand in encouragement. Jane sat back in his chair, absorbing both the spoken and unspoken words of the so-called victim.

She told the same story as her friends at school, of being pushed into the van, handcuffed, then a black pillowcase thrown over her head. She was brought to Roberts's house where he repeatedly raped her and used various sexual paraphernalia to sodomize and torture her for days on end. He kept her prisoner, keeping her naked almost the entire time.

Jane nearly smiled when she glance at him while telling the most salacious details of her captivity. She was gauging his reaction, just as he was gauging hers.

"Did Roberts ever threaten you with a weapon of any kind?" Jane asked, knowing full well no weapons were found in the kidnapper's home.

She paused, and Jane watched how her brain seemed to be processing his question.

"Uh…no," she said. "Not that I remember." She looked at Lisbon. "Some things are a blur…"

"Of course," said Lisbon. "Just tell us all you can."

"He had me tied up or handcuffed mostly. I couldn't leave."

There was more—_a lot_ more, and the girl cried as she told the worst of it, while Lisbon grew more and more disgusted, and Mrs. Barto wept right along with her daughter. Cherish was about to come to the end of her tawdry tale, when a light knock came at the door, and Van Pelt appeared, apologetic for the interruption.

"Sorry, Boss. Director Bertram is on the phone; he says it's urgent."

Lisbon clicked off the recorder with a sigh of annoyance. She looked at Cherish and her mother. "I'm sorry. I have to take this. I'll be back as soon as I can."

When Lisbon left, Van Pelt peeked in again. "Mrs. Barto, while you're waiting, since Cherish is a minor, we have some paperwork you need to fill out and sign."

Mrs. Barto looked with concern at her daughter. "Will you be all right?"

"I'll keep her company," offered Jane, smiling kindly.

"Thank you," the mother said, and left with Van Pelt.

Jane studied Cherish a moment, who sniffed a little, but stared boldly back.

"That was an Oscar-worthy performance," said Jane softly, still smiling.

"I don't know what you mean," said the girl, with mock offense.

"Aw, don't kid a kidder, Miss Barto. I know a very talented conwoman when I see one."

Cherish glanced at the window, then at the recorder, as if reassuring herself they were truly alone. Abruptly, her entire demeanor changed, and she sat back in her chair, crossing her legs, not bothering to readjust her skirt when it inched up high on her tan, shapely thighs.

"Well, hello, Cherish," said Jane triumphantly. "Nice to meet the real you."

"My friends call me Cherry," she replied with a seductive smile. "Well, they used to anyway." Her smile widened at her own clever innuendo.

"So, you're going to let an innocent man go to jail for kidnapping and rape—why? To protect your reputation?"

She shrugged. "Yes. I have my whole life ahead of me, Mr. Jane; Jimmy's middle-aged. And he's not so innocent. He had kinky sex with an underage girl."

"He didn't know you were underage," Jane pointed out. "You lied to him."

She snorted. "It's not like he asked for my ID."

"You're not afraid I'll tell the others what amounts to a full confession?"

"No one will believe you. I have your boss eating out of my hand, and my mother feels so guilty for neglecting me, she'll believe whatever I tell her. And as you can see," she concluded, letting her face morph back to the tearful, little girl lost of before, "I can be very convincing." She dabbed her eyes with a tissue, then chuckled at her own genius.

Jane regarded her thoughtfully, one finger tapping his bottom lip. "An absent father, eh?" he ventured.

Cherish's self-satisfied eyes changed suddenly to angry slits. "I don't have daddy issues, Mr. Jane." She thought better of her anger, then her hands went to the arms of the chair as she leaned forward, widening the gap in her blouse so a hint of cleavage appeared. Her small, pink tongue slipped out to quickly flick over her bottom lip.

"You were listening very closely when I described what Jimmy did to me," she said. "Did that turn you on?"

"Not really my thing," Jane replied blandly. "Neither are teenage girls."

"I'll be legal in a few days. Maybe you'll change your mind."

He pointedly ignored the come-on. "You didn't fool me, Miss Barto. Don't count on a jury to be fooled by these adolescent theatrics."

"Oh, they will," she said confidently. "I'll make them believe me." She glanced at Jane's wedding ring, changing tactics yet again. "Hey…does your wife still think you're as hot as I do?"

Jane felt the involuntary pang that he always did when his family was mentioned unexpectedly. A brief shadow crossed his features before he could help it.

"She doesn't, does she?" pounced Cherish, misinterpreting his reaction. She reached out a hand to touch the one resting on the table. "You are one of the sexiest men I've ever seen," she continued, her eyes brimming with sympathy. "If you were mine, I'd make you feel appreciated. And you could do whatever you wanted with me, whatever she won't let you—"

Just then, the door opened, re-admitting Lisbon, who took in the lone occupants of the room with a frown. Automatically, Cherish's face fell, and she became visibly upset.  
"I uh, think we've gotten all we need for now, Cherish," Lisbon said. "I know this must have been very difficult for you. Your mother is about finished with the paperwork. You remember your way to Agent Van Pelt's desk?"

"Yes. Thank you, Agent Lisbon. Good-bye, Mr. Jane."

Jane didn't reply, but watched the young temptress hurry with a straight posture out of the room and down the hall.

"What the hell did you say to her?" Lisbon asked, rounding on him like a mother hen.

"Me?" Jane said, shaking his head in disbelief. "That innocent little victim of yours just came on to me. She's got a thing for older men, apparently."

"What?" Lisbon looked startled, her eyes going to the door Cherish had just exited.

"Hard to believe, I know," he said dryly. "But true nonetheless. And she admitted to me that it was consensual with Roberts."

"If that's true, you manipulated her into saying it."

"Now that hurts, Lisbon. I have no reason to lie about this."

"Except to prove you're right."

"You really have such a poor opinion of me?" He looked genuinely hurt, and her face softened.

"No. Well, yes. Sometimes. It depends."

"Well, gee, thanks for that. But mark my words, Lisbon. That girl is a Sociopath with a capital _S_. Poor Roberts probably never knew what hit him."

Lisbon sat down heavily in the chair across from him. "I don't want to believe you because it's just too…depraved to think about a young girl happily doing the horrible things she described."

Jane looked at her thoughtfully, trying to weed past his own emotions about this case and surmise why it was that Lisbon was having such a difficult time taking him at his word this time. The past few years, she had doubted him less and less, so it was quite a blow to his ego that she had taken a step backward now.

_No_, Jane thought, _it wasn't that she didn't trust his instincts, it was…yes! That's it!_

He leaned forward in his chair to look at his friend and colleague more closely. It certainly was no secret that he loved her—he'd told her after all—but he was still trying to work out in his own mind what that meant, where she fit in his heart. He knew she was in love with him, but he wasn't certain if she had acknowledged her own feelings. It was complicated, for both of them. But one thing was sure to him now—this case was reminding her of her own past somehow, and, given the circumstances of it, it couldn't have been anything good.

Lisbon met his eyes, hating that familiar probing look of his suddenly directed at her. He had a way of laying someone's soul bare to the world, and it wasn't pleasant when that someone was her. As hard as she tried, her courage collapsed under the intensity of his gaze, and her eyes skittered away uncomfortably.

"This has brought up some old memories for you," he said quietly. "What happened to you, Lisbon?"

He saw the brief flash of surprise mixed with pain, and then it was gone, and her defenses came back up in full force. She stood abruptly to leave, purposefully ignoring his question.

"Those computers from Roberts's house and the Barto's should be here by now. I'll find out what the holdup is."

"If you want to talk about it, Teresa, I'm a good listener."

It was so unlike him to be so personal with her, that she was speechless for a moment, and she swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat.

"There's nothing to talk about," she finally managed, pleased she sounded somewhat normal.

Of course they both knew she was lying, but mercifully, he let it go. At least for now.

Xxxxxxxxxx

That afternoon, while Van Pelt worked on the suspect's and victim's hard drives, Jane found himself focusing more on Lisbon than on Cherish Barto. He'd ruled out in his mind the possibility that Lisbon had been raped. She didn't exhibit the kind of residual anger or damage that might have come from such a trauma. No, not rape, but definitely something sexual, and definitely something that made her compassionate toward Cherish. He wondered if he dared pursue this. He had his own demons he didn't like to talk about, and Lisbon had always been respectful of that.

He knew about her difficult childhood, the early loss of her mother, her father's drunken rampages, her having to grow up fast when it was left to her to raise her little brothers. Those things he was sure had made her stronger, however, and she'd spoken briefly about them herself over the years. There was still pain there, but he could tell it was something she had come to terms with long ago. Jane had also purloined and read her file in the first year he had worked for the CBI, including her psychological evaluations. Nothing there to explain her empathy with Cherish, however. He would have to give this more thought, and hope that Lisbon might take him up on his offer to be a willing listener.

Lisbon walked through the bullpen with a fresh cup of coffee. She ignored Jane completely, which made him grin. Agent Lisbon was hiding something, all right, and from her body language, he knew it was both painful and embarrassing.

"Boss," Van Pelt called. "I have something on Roberts's hard drive."

She stopped and turned toward the junior agent's desk.

"What is it?"

"Everything Roberts said about his visits to that S&M site, the hook up e-mails—all true. I just can't trace who the IP address belonged tofor the person he was talking to."

"What's the e-mail address of the girl?" asked Jane curiously.

"Cherrypie1 ," said Van Pelt. "She also used that same moniker in the chatrooms."

"Hmm," said Jane. He watched Lisbon's back bristle up like a porcupine.

"I'll look on Cherish Barto's laptop and see if anything matches up."

"Let me know what you find."

"Yes, Boss."

It was time for Jane's afternoon nap, so he settled back on his couch, closing his eyes and trying to sort through the connection between Cherish and Lisbon. Soon, he drifted off to sleep, his dreams sexual, and somewhat disturbing.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nothing was found on Cherish Barto's laptop to indicate she'd had contact with Jimmy Roberts. Jane wasn't surprised, but this seemed to confirm things in Lisbon's mind, and they were back to square one.

"Maybe she got online at school, or at a friend's house," Jane suggested. Lisbon hesitated, torn between her gut and following every possible lead.

She looked at Van Pelt. "Go to her school and check it out. Rigsby, Cho, go talk to her friends."

"Yes, Boss," chorused her obedient team. With an annoyed glance at Jane, Lisbon returned to her office, where she closed herself off for the rest of the day.

When the team found nothing to indicate Cherish's contact with Roberts, Jane realized it would be up to him now to get Cherish to admit her willing participation in the week-long sexcapade with Roberts. Lisbon's good-bye to him that night was cold and clipped, and he didn't push it. She would have to see the evidence for herself if she were going to believe him this time.

Jane was mentally and physically tired, not to mention out of clean clothes in the attic, so he drove back to his extended stay motel room, looking forward to a long, hot shower and shave, maybe a nature show to take his mind off the disturbing images his brain had conjured up that afternoon as he'd slept. He shuddered just thinking about it.

He pulled into the motel parking lot, parked the Citroen, and climbed out. A green Volkswagen Bug pulled in beside him and he looked up curiously. Then his stomach turned over when he saw who had been driving it.

The woman who got out was dressed in tight black pants tucked into knee-high black boots. By contrast, she wore the same flowery pink blouse from that morning, only this time a form-fitting leather jacket finished the outfit. Her hair was now carefully curled, her make-up immaculate, and as she walked toward him in the light of the motel's flashing sign, she looked more twenty-five than seventeen.

"Hello, Mr. Jane," she said, her voice low and throaty. "I was hoping you might change your mind…once you saw the _real_ me."

TBC

A/N: Do I have your interest? Do you want to read more? Please log in and let me know!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow! I can't believe all the love I received for just the first chapter! Thanks so much!

So I'm having trouble going really dark with this story—sorry Nerwen. I've found I've had to force myself not to write something funny or to point out the humor in the situation. I'm not doing such a good job of that, I'm afraid. There will be dark moments, but I am what I am, I suppose. Hope you're not too disappointed.

**Chapter 2**

It took only a moment for Jane to recover from the shock of finding Cherish Barto in his motel parking lot.

"You followed me," he said, his surprise making him state the obvious. She stopped right before him, and the high-heeled boots she wore made them nearly the same height. She had no qualms about invading his personal space, and he was forced to back into the Citroen.

She smiled at him. "I waited for you to leave the CBI; you sure work late hours. You must be exhausted, poor baby."

She reached up to touch his cheek, but his hand was quicker, and he grabbed her wrist gently, lowering it before releasing her.

"What do you want, Miss Barto?"

"It's Cherry, remember? And I think I made it pretty clear what I wanted earlier."

"That's very flattering, but I'm old enough to be your father. Have you ever considered dating boys your own age?"

"Been there done them," she quipped. "And speaking of fathers, I was thinking about what you said to me, about daddy issues…" He felt her wandering hand at his belt buckle as she stared deeply into his eyes. "Maybe there's something to that. I'd be willing to call you, _Daddy,_ if that's what you'd like."

His hand grasped hers, removing it from his belt, and he sidestepped away from her. "Go home, Cherish," he said firmly. "I'm sure your mother is beside herself with worry."

"Aw, listen to you. You're sounding more and more like my daddy already."

Little did she know that this was far and away the worst seduction tactic she should be employing on him. Charlotte would have been about her age now. He concealed his disgust, however, remembering that he mustn't alienate her if he was going to get her to confess again on tape this time or before another witness-say, Lisbon perhaps?

"Look, Cherish, you're very beautiful, and certainly tempting, but you forget I'm with the CBI, and you are under age. I could lose my job, go to jail even."

"Oh, I see," she said knowingly. "I told you my birthday was coming up. I'll be eighteen day after tomorrow."

He knew that already. He'd looked at her file. Suddenly, he came out of his shock and realized the best way to handle this—handle her.

"Maybe we could talk after that," he said, turning on the charm.

He let her sidle close to him again, but this time he took her hand in his before she could try to touch him. He brought it to his mouth gallantly before barely brushing his lips across her knuckles. She drew in a sharp breath at his touch.

"Go home," he repeated gently, releasing her hand with a squeeze. "Before one of us gets into trouble." His small smile was sexy to the extreme, his eyes mischievous. Cherish Barto might think she was irresistible, but she was no match for Patrick Jane when he put his mind to it. He watched her brain at work behind the heavily made-up blue eyes, calculating, considering.

"Okay," she said. "Until after my birthday, then."

"Yes," he said, his eyes full of sensual promise. But before he could read her intentions, she impulsively kissed his cheek before trotting back to her car with a carefree giggle.

"Sweet dreams…Daddy," she told him, getting back into the driver's seat. The engine of the VW roared to life and she loudly peeled out of the parking lot, like the teenager that she was. Jane slumped against the Citroen, his hand going to the lipstick mark on his face. He brought his fingers away to stare at the deep red brand she'd left him with.

"Holy shit," he muttered to himself.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane was up half the night, debating with himself whether he should tell Lisbon about his unexpected visitor. On the one hand, it would be more evidence that Cherish Barto wasn't what she appeared to be. On the other, he wasn't sure if Lisbon was ready to move past her own personal biases (whatever the hell they were) and really listen to him. He worried that somehow she would make the girl's visit into his fault, and she would claim he had misinterpreted a troubled girl's cry for help. He definitely wasn't sure she would understand his motives in promising to see Cherish again after her birthday. But then again, he desperately wanted to share this with Lisbon, his best friend, and, on more than one occasion lately, his partner in crime. True, he was used to keeping things from her, but that was usually because he was trying to avoid putting her in danger. This time, well…he really wasn't sure what he was doing.

When he got to work, he still hadn't decided what to do, and he went tiredly to the break room for his morning tea, bypassing the herbal for some strong Earl Grey. He smelled Lisbon's light, citrusy perfume at the same time he heard her footsteps behind him.

"I got a call from Katherine Barto last night," she said. Jane stilled, his hand hovering over the electric teapot. He forced himself to relax and continue his morning ritual. He turned on the water to fill the pot.

"Good morning to you too, Lisbon," he said brightly, schooling his features into a wry smile before he turned to her. She ignored his pleasantry.

_Still pissed off, I see._

"Cherish snuck out last night, and her mother was afraid that Roberts had made bail and had come back for her."

"Oh?" He swallowed, waiting for the ax to fall.

"Turns out she'd gone out to meet a friend. Cherish got back home while I was on the phone with Mrs. Barto."

He looked closely at her, trying to figure out what she knew, and, for once, where Lisbon was concerned, he was drawing a complete blank. If Lisbon knew Cherish had gone to see him, she was giving nothing away. The chance that she might catch him in a lie made him abruptly decide his course of action.

"She followed me to my motel last night," he confessed solemnly.

"Who? Katherine Barto?"

"No…Cherish."

"What? Why?" She was absolutely horrified.

Jane looked around, noticing heads turned their way at Lisbon's outburst. "May we talk in your office?"

"But—"

"Please?" he implored, and to his own horror, felt his cheeks fill with color.

"Fine," she said, and practically stomped out of the break room. Jane looked longingly at the full teapot, then stoically followed after her.

She was leaning against her desk when he caught up with her, and he quietly closed the door behind him.

"Why didn't you call me last night?" she asked, her tone rich with accusation.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. He couldn't remember feeling so awkward in her presence. Even when Lorelei had informed her they'd been lovers, he hadn't felt so at a loss around her.

"Well, what did she want?"

"Me," he said simply.

"Holy shit."

Jane laughed humorlessly, running a hand through his hair in an unaccustomed gesture of frustration.

"That's what I said."

"Are you sure you weren't misunder—"

"No, Lisbon. I know when a woman's coming on to me."

"But she's not a woman," Lisbon said coldly.

"No," he said, stilling his agitated movements. "But you wouldn't have known it by looking at her. It was just like in the interrogation room yesterday, only…worse." He had to stop himself from shivering.

Lisbon sighed, reluctant acceptance settling upon her.

"Tell me exactly what happened."

He did, omitting nothing, not even his own actions that had led Cherish to believe he was interested in her offer.

"You should have told me immediately," reiterated Lisbon. She moved to the couch and sat down tiredly, putting her face in her hands and closing her eyes.

"I didn't know if I could," he told her sadly.

She looked up at him in surprise.

He pulled a chair away from the small table in the room, maneuvering it so he was facing her. "When was the last time you didn't believe me when I told you someone was lying?"

She thought a moment, but couldn't remember. "What? You can't be wrong once in a while?"

"It's not that, and you know it. And for the record, I'm not wrong this time either. Like I told you before, Teresa, there's something personal going on here with you that has a direct relationship to this girl."

Her lips tightened in sudden, intense anger. "I can separate my personal feelings from my job, Jane. I don't like what you're implying here."

"I'm not implying anything; I'm stating it categorically." He held up his hands to forestall another livid outburst. "But don't be too hard on yourself; I'm all kinds of screwed up myself right now. I mean…this girl about the same age as my daughter would have been, and she's propositioning me? You don't think that's freaking me out a tad? Usually I can read you like a book, Lisbon, but this time…everything's all murky and dark in my own mind, and I can't seem to get beyond it to figure out what's bothering _you_."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Understandable. One's sex life—"

"_Sex life?_"

He continued, undaunted.

"- isn't usually what we'd like to discuss with our colleagues. But maybe you could talk about it with your _friend_."

"You mean you?"

He smiled. "Naturally."

"Ha. No way. No way I want _you_ poking around in my sex life."

His grinned widened, and she couldn't help but grin herself, then blush. "You know what I mean. Drop it, Jane. Let's focus on the case, shall we?"

At least her anger had subsided somewhat.

"Sure," he said with a sigh, sitting back in the chair. "Why not?"

"Well, what are we going to do about Cherish? We've only got your word against hers, and I'm not so sure I like the idea of your leading her on to get her to confess. Sort of smacks of Lorelei again, doesn't it?"

"No. This is completely different."

"Why? Because you were actually attracted to Lorelei?"

"One has absolutely nothing to do with the other," he said evasively.

"Oh, really? Now who's getting defensive about his sex life?"

They were at an impasse, and they were quiet for a moment before Jane finally smiled, dispelling the tension.

"Okay, back to the problem at hand. I think the obvious plan is, I wear a wire and get her to confess that she wasn't kidnapped, that she willingly stayed with Roberts for a week and had kinky sex. Won't get him out of the statutory rape charge, but—"

"How far are you willing to go with this?" she interrupted curiously.

He crossed his arms in front of him, fully aware that it was a textbook defensive pose, but he just couldn't help it. "I'm not going to sleep with her, Lisbon."

"Well, isn't that the best way to get information out of a woman?" she asked sweetly.

He leaned forward, a wicked gleam in his eye. "If I sleep with _you_, will you tell me what your problem is with this case?"

She went pale and stood up, her anger refueled.

"Go to hell, Jane," she said, deadly calm.

"You started it," he said mildly, standing up so that he towered over her slightly. "I'm not going to sleep with a teenage girl, for any reason. And could we please leave Lorelei out of this?"

"Fine. We wait till tomorrow when Cherish turns eighteen so she can't entrap you too."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you believe me now?"

"Yeah, yeah," she replied dismissively. "We'll use a wire, then you can use your magic powers to get a confession out of her. And by that I don't mean hypnotism," she warned, stabbing a finger into his chest.

"If I can't use hypnosis, exactly what _magic powers_ are you talking about, Lisbon?"

She blushed, then stepped away from him, going back behind the safety of her desk.

"You know what I mean," she said, gesturing to his face, his hair, and general gorgeousness. "The trademark Patrick Jane charm."

He gave her his widest, most dizzying smile, blue-green eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, that's part of it," she admitted, only somewhat immune herself, if she were honest.

"You find me charming?"

She rolled her eyes. "I find you irritating, but I've seen how other women, who don't have to put up with you everyday, can fall for that crap. Just don't overdo it. That girl is pretty sharp."

"Wouldn't want to overwhelm her with all that charm and extreme handsomeness," he said dryly, holding his lapels and rocking back on his heels.

"Who said anything about being handsome?" But he caught a glimpse of her dimpled smile before she turned away from him to switch on her computer.

_Is she flirting with me? _ He felt a little warm at the prospect, unsure of where that reaction was coming from. He shook his head a little at his strange musing.

"So we do this thing the day after her birthday, right? I'll call her, ask to meet her somewhere. Use my charm and handsomeness to lure her into my web of magic and get her talking, while you listen in and record the confession. How's that for a plan, Agent Lisbon?"

She nodded, all business now. Her mood swings were about to give him whiplash.

"Good," he concluded. "Now, if you don't mind, I really need some tea. I'd be happy to bring you a cup of coffee if you like."

She looked up and smiled. "That would be nice. Thanks."

"You're welcome." He moved to leave, but he couldn't without one last attempt at getting her to really talk to him. "You know, Teresa, I'm very good at keeping secrets."

She met his eyes, noted the sincerity there, and her gaze briefly softened upon him, but then a welcome spark of humor reappeared. "Oh, you don't have to remind me of that, Jane," she said. "You're the poster boy for keeping secrets."

He smiled in reply, then went back to the break room, whistling tunelessly under his breath.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The rest of the day passed quietly, and with Roberts safely ensconced in the Sacramento jail awaiting preliminary hearings and DNA results, there was nothing much more they could do on that end. Besides, the DA wouldn't be too appreciative if he knew they were actually trying to subvert his case, and Jane had heard nothing more from Cherish, for which he was fervently grateful.

He spent the evening after everyone had left up in his attic, sipping tea and working on his list of men whose hands he'd shaken in the last ten years, trying to keep his mind off Cherish and Lisbon. The latter was proving particularly difficult to forget. He'd backed off again, but since his mind was clearing more after the initial shock of Cherish's proposition, he was beginning to realize that Lisbon had likely been involved with an older man, who had ended up hurting her in some way. She obviously had daddy issues herself, given her father's emotional absence and physical abuse. He hoped she would be more forthcoming when this case was put to bed—so to speak. He cringed at his own obvious Freudian slip.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day, Jane and Lisbon agreed that they should fill in the rest of the team on their plans, just in case they needed backup. They met after work at O'Malley's. It was a Friday night, so the small pub was hopping, but they managed to secure their usual booth, and everyone ordered beers while they waited for their fish and chips or Reuben sandwiches.

"What's this all about, Boss," asked Van Pelt nervously. It wasn't like they didn't get together for drinks or a meal occasionally, but O'Malley's had come to represent trouble ahead.

"It has to do with the Cherish Barto Case," Lisbon said, just loudly enough to be heard over the jukebox.

"That poor kid," commented Rigsby, sipping his beer.

"Maybe," muttered Jane.

All eyes flew to him. "Roberts is innocent," announced Jane. "Well, that's a relative term, obviously."

He left it to Lisbon to explain the finer points, and afterwards, the rest of the team looked at each other in disbelief.

"I can't believe it," said Van Pelt. "You all saw her after she was rescued—er—found."

"Part of the act," said Jane. "If she gets away with this, she'll be on the road to being one of the best conwomen around."

"No offense, Jane, but are you absolutely sure about this?" asked Rigsby. "No room for misunderstanding?"

Jane looked at his coworkers, who had stood by him-well, Lisbon anyway, who had stood by _him_-over the years. He supposed it was their right to question his instincts about such a sensitive matter, but damned if it didn't sting a bit to have his very manhood put in doubt.

"I thought the same things, believe me," piped in Lisbon before he could reply. "But we all know Jane's expertise in reading people. And where's his motivation to lie?"

Jane met Lisbon's eyes, thankful for her defense of him, but oddly insulted at the same time. He smirked at his reaction.

"Thanks, Lisbon. So, you guys in? Cho, we haven't heard anything from the Stoic contingent."

"I believe you," he said simply. "I've been there myself."

"What do you mean?" asked Rigbsy. "You've had kinky sex with a minor?"

He shot Rigsby a look of annoyance. Cho didn't always like how Jane railroaded Lisbon, but he'd felt empathetic toward the consultant the moment he'd heard his story.

"Had a girl about sixteen after me once," he said. "I was twenty-two, and she was relentless. Everyone in the gang encouraged me to take what she offered, but no way I was doing time for taking that jailbait. When she finally gave up on me, a buddy of mine got ten years and sexual predator status for the rest of his life."

The team was silent, everyone attempting to imagine a young Cho trying to resist an Oakland Lolita. It boggled the mind.

"What do you mean, _relentless_?" Jane asked casually, but he genuinely wanted to know how the younger man had handled it.

Cho hesitated, remembering that ladies were present. "She was always hanging around the gang, wearing provocative clothes, rubbing up on me or sitting in my lap. Uh…groping me." He blushed a little in rare embarrassment, and Rigbsy laughed aloud.

"I'm sure it was very degrading," said Van Pelt sympathetically, barely hiding her own smile. Cho nodded.

"What did you do?" asked Lisbon.

"Only thing I could do—I ran like hell."

Rigsby nearly choked on his beer.

"You stopped hanging out with the gang over this," stated Jane.

"Yeah, till I heard she'd moved on. I took a lot of crap for it—a gangbanger afraid of a little girl. When the girl's father caught her and Jai in her bed though, I was suddenly a hero." He almost smiled at the memory.

"Too bad I can't run from this," said Jane with irony. "Roberts doesn't deserve to go to prison for kidnapping and forcible rape. Given the way Cherish can transform herself, he might get out of the statutory charge too."

Jane looked around, seeing now that he'd convinced them. Lisbon nodded at him. The team was on their side once more.

"Did you tell Director Bertram what we're doing?" Van Pelt asked Lisbon.

"No. Jane and I talked about it. You know how media driven Bertram is. How would this look if word got out that we were blaming the victim? This was a pretty big deal on the news for a week, and I don't think he would have believed Jane and taken the risk that he was wrong."

"And you know what they say," added Jane. "It's easier to apologize than to ask for permission."

The team all raised their glasses to that old aphorism.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The five of them stuck around O'Malley's only long enough to finish dinner and another beer or two. Tomorrow night might be a long one, so they headed home. Lisbon and Jane were the last to leave, and they walked together to their cars.

"Thanks," said Jane. She didn't have to ask him for what.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you at first," she said, as they stood near her Mustang in the semi-darkness. In the distance, they could still hear what was playing on O'Malley's jukebox.

He waited, hoping the two beers she'd consumed would have relaxed her enough to loosen her tongue. When he could tell nothing more was forthcoming, however, he sighed, suddenly bone weary.

"She was very convincing," he answered finally. "When she started coming onto me, I could barely believe it myself."

"Well, I trust you'll get her confession. You always do."

"Lisbon—" he began, taking a step toward her.

She held up her hand. "I'm okay, Jane. You were right; my past was clouding my judgment for a bit, but I'm fine now. We have a job to do tomorrow." She grinned. "Or, should I say, _you_ do."

"Oh, the things I do for the CBI," he said dryly. "After this, I'm asking for a raise."

"Ha," she said. "If anyone is owed a raise, it's—"

Suddenly, she was enveloped in one of Jane's impulsive hugs. She hesitated a fraction of a second, then closed her eyes and tightened her arms about him. He said nothing, just stood there, giving and receiving comfort. After a full two minutes, he kissed the side of her head and drew back.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said softly. He began walking toward his Citroen while she stood there watching him, her heart thrumming gently in her chest.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane thought about that hug all the way home, reliving the feel of her small, yet strong body against his, the sweet smell of oranges, the silkiness of her hair beneath his cheek, the speeding of his own pulse as she hugged him back. He got out of his car with a smile on his face, taking his motel key card from his suit jacket pocket as he walked to his door.

He slid the card and opened it, automatically flipping on the light.

"Hello, Mr. Jane," came a sultry voice from the direction of his bed. He gasped, eyes widening in shock, his hand going to his chest.

For there on his bed was Cherish Barto, naked as the day she was born, unless you counted the giant red bow tied about her neck.

"Happy Birthday to me," she said with a seductive smile, putting her hands behind her head and relaxing against the pillows.

"Holy shit," said Jane under his breath.

A/N: What's a poor mentalist to do? Read my next chapter to find out.

Oh, and hopefully I'll have a tag for Sunday night's episode. I'm really excited about it, and think it will be a pivotal episode for the Red John story. Please put me on author alert so you won't miss it!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews for Chapter 2! I'll get to the replies very soon, I promise.

One thing I'm guilty of sometimes is cramming a lot of events into one chapter. I guess that goes to my own impatience to get things rolling. Along with that are all kinds of different emotions that I'm wringing from these poor characters. I suppose I'm not really sorry—unless you guys don't enjoy it, of course…

**Chapter 3**

"Surprised?" asked Cherish, her smile stretching across her face.

_Her face, _thought Jane._ Focus on her face._

"Uh, yeah," he said, struggling to stop his voice from cracking. "And what a lovely surprise it is. How'd you get in here, might I ask?"

"I told the manager you were my daddy, and that you'd forgotten to give me a key," she said, laughing. "It's amazing what a few tears can do."

"Yes, isn't it?" _I wonder what would happen if __**I **__started crying._

She patted the bed beside her. "Won't you join me? I'd love a birthday kiss. Or maybe even…a birthday spanking." She laughed again at his stricken expression. "You should see your face. I know, I know. You said you weren't into that stuff. Too bad."

"Sorry, you just really surprised me," he said, managing to get a hold of himself to more effectively play the game. He pretended to lustfully sweep her body with his eyes, but when he saw the faded bruises that Roberts had left, he began to reconsider helping the guy. She might look like a woman, but she was still just a child, really. A child who had been brutalized for a man's sexual pleasure.

"I can't wait to celebrate with you," he continued, his voice soft to hide his anger, "but would you excuse me a minute? I really need to use the bathroom—just had a couple beers after work, you understand."

She looked a little pouty for a minute, but nodded, trying to return her mask of sophistication. "Of course," she said. "But please hurry…" He watched her hands come up but looked hastily away when she moved to cup her breasts.

He swallowed, but managed to lower his voice to a sultry purr. "I'll be right back. Don't start without me now."

When the door to the bathroom closed behind him, he resisted the urge to sag to the floor, but instead he hastily took out his cell phone and prepared to text Lisbon.

_Mayday! Mayday! Cherish is here in my room! _

He prayed for the first time in years that Lisbon was home by now; she never texted and drove. A few seconds later (though it seemed like hours) she texted back.

_Well, get rid of her._

_I can't scare her off. Call me in a few minutes and tell me we have an urgent case._

_You could use your phone to record her. Now's your chance._

_Like I know how to record with my phone. I barely know how to text with this thing._

_You really need to stop fearing technology._

_Dammit, Lisbon! Call me! SHE'S NAKED!_

_Wow! You move fast, loverboy. LOL. OK. Stay calm. I'll call._

_Give me a minute. I'm in the bathroom._

_TMI _

_?_

_Too Much Information! I'll call in a few._

Jane put his phone in his pocket, then used the facilities, flushed, washed his hands, put some cold water on his face for good measure.

He took a deep, cleansing breath, then opened the door.

"Everything okay?" asked Cherish, who had thankfully covered herself with the comforter. _She must have been pretty cold_, he thought absently.

"Yes, sorry about that." He made himself sit on the bed beside her. "So tell, me Cherish, why aren't you out celebrating your birthday with your friends?"

The girl sighed, reaching up to adjust the bow at her neck_._

"That's what my mom thinks I'm doing right now. I told all my friends that I wasn't feeling up to it yet, after my kidnapping and all."

"Hmm," he said. "None of your girlfriends know the real story about Roberts?"

It was a risk asking that, but if he had another witness, he wouldn't have to go through with pretending to be seduced by a teenager.

She chuckled. "Of course not. They wouldn't understand. But now that I'm eighteen, I guess I don't have to be so secretive, right? And I can tell the world I'm sleeping with a sexy older man like you."

She reached out a small hand to trail one purple fingernail up and down his arm. His jaw tightened.

_Where the hell was Lisbon?_

"Well, maybe not the _whole_ world," Jane countered. "I don't think your mother would understand, and my boss certainly wouldn't, given that you are part of an ongoing case of ours."

Inspiration struck, and his smile became genuine. "Now if you were to get the charges dropped against Roberts, we could go public with our relationship. I could take you out to the finest restaurants, to the theatre, to the symphony. Show you off."

She looked skeptically around the dingy motel room. "You could afford all that?"

He shrugged. "I live simply, by choice. But I'm actually loaded, sweetheart." He caught her hand, massaging her knuckles with his thumb. "You're a grown woman now, and you deserve to be taken care of. Spoiled, even. But that can't happen—at least with me—under the current circumstances." He frowned in mock disappointment.

She arched a finely shaped brow, her red lips pursing in thought.

"Don't you think we're getting a little ahead of ourselves?" she asked, and Jane felt his heart sink in his chest. "We haven't even slept together yet. How do I know you're worth all the shit that will be thrown at me if I confess?"

He lifted her hand, turning it over and kissing her palm. He felt her pulse jump in excitement. "Oh, I'm worth it, baby," he whispered, looking seductively into her eyes.

She grasped his hand and pulled, taking him by surprise as he fell forward onto the bed. Mercifully, his phone rang in his pocket.

"Don't answer that," she said, lowering the blankets again to show what he'd be missing.

"Sorry, sweetheart, I'm on call."

He sat up and fumbled for his phone in relief.

"Jane," he answered in a clipped, professional voice.

"You okay?" Lisbon asked on the other end. "Your virtue still intact?"

"Lisbon. What's up?"

"Is this the part where I'm telling you there's a case?"

"A murder? Where?" He looked apologetically at Cherish.

"Very convincing," said Lisbon, deadpan.

"Okay. Hey, could you come and pick me up? My car's making that noise again."

"Your car always makes noises. It's a wonder it's still road worthy."

"Yeah, I need to get that fixed. So you'll swing by and pick me up on the way to the crime scene?"

"Seriously? I just got home, Jane."

"Great, see you in a few minutes."

He hung up on her irritated sigh.

Jane stood up. "I'm really sorry, but duty calls. You'd better get up and get dressed before my boss gets here. She'd have my ass for this."

"Yeah, she does seem like a tough lady, the way she ruffed up Jimmy. But she was really nice to me that night." He was pleased to note a small trace of guilt in her tone. Maybe she wasn't a lost cause after all.

He averted his eyes as she flipped the blankets off herself and got out of bed, padding around it to stand before him.

"I'll leave," she said. "But you'll have to kiss me good-bye first."

"I don't want to start something I can't finish, baby," he said, his body tensing as her bare arms wrapped round his neck.

"It's just a kiss, Mr. Jane," she breathed, her breath smelling of bubblegum, her perfume cotton candy. Everything in him, especially his identity as a father, rebelled against her request, but he had to do something to keep her on the hook.

He bowed his head and chastely kissed her cheek. She was quick, he'd give her that, for her head moved and her lips were suddenly pressing to his. She tried her best to get him to respond, to delve between his lips, but he resisted, letting her her try until finally she gave up. She stepped back, looking up at him with a mixture of anger, disappointment, and a hint of embarrassment.

"I told you, Cherish," he said. "I've got to work. Can we take a rain check? I promise I'll make it up to you."

"I don't know," she said coldly. "I'm getting a little tired of the rejection."

"I don't suppose you're used to that, are you?"

"No," she said, moving to the nearby chair where she'd laid her undergarments and the rest of her clothes. Jane politely looked away while she dressed.

"May I ask you a personal question?"

She hesitated, pulling up her tight jeans. "Maybe."

"Why do you let men hurt you? You're a beautiful girl; you could have any guy you wanted. I meant it when I said you deserved to be taken care of."

"What are you, a shrink or somethin'?"

"No, but it breaks my heart to see those bruises marring your beautiful skin."

Now in her bra, she lifted her hand to her bruised chest self-consciously. "I like it. Pain makes the pleasure more intense."

"A real man could make your pleasure just as wonderful without the whips and handcuffs."

She paused, black t-shirt in hand. "Are you volunteering?" she asked, the temptress once more.

"Maybe," he said, resuming his role. "But you'll have to be patient. I take my time, enjoy the buildup, the tease. Maybe get to know each other a little better before we jump into the sack."

"I'm not looking for a date, Mister—what's your first name, anyway? Not that I'm not down with the _Fifty Shades_ vibe."

Jane smiled indulgently. "Call me Patrick. Not many people do these days."

"Well, Patrick," she continued, pulling the tee over her head, "Like I said, I don't need a boyfriend. What I need is…sex. You're super hot and all, but if you're not ready for a something without strings, maybe we should call the whole thing off."

She untied the bow and left it on his chair, then slid on the leather jacket she'd worn the other night. Holding the arm of the chair, she put her feet into the black stilettos on the floor.

"Oh, I'm ready, sweetheart," said Jane suggestively, fearful now he was losing her interest. "I would have been more than ready had my boss not called."

She looked at him skeptically, picking up her purse and slinging the strap over her shoulder. "If you say so," she said over her shoulder.

She walked toward the door, and Jane moved to intercept her before she got away. He pushed her up against the closed door, his hands moving to rest on either side of her body. He could tell she liked his roughness, and while he cringed inside at what he was doing, it was for a greater cause.

He leaned forward and whispered near her ear, feeling her shiver at his warm breath.

"I say so," he told her. "And I _will_ call you tomorrow."

She swallowed, her blue eyes round in her face. "Okay."

She got off on the forcefulness, apparently.

He reached down and clasped the doorknob, allowing her to step back as he opened the door, his eyes holding hers in thrall.

"Good night, Cherish," he said softly.

"'Night."

And then she was gone. He peered out the window, making sure she got to her car safely. It was parked on the edge of the lot, hidden behind another tenant's travel trailer. No wonder he hadn't seen it when he'd pulled into the lot earlier.

This time, Jane's body did sag, and he barely it to the bed before he sat down heavily.

"Son of a bitch," he said to himself.

He didn't know how long he sat there, his thoughts awhirl. They went from disgust and self-loathing to pity, and yes, a bit of fear. He knew he didn't have to continue with this. He could stop anytime, and Lisbon would put Cho or Rigsby on it. But he'd developed a rapport of sorts with Cherish, and he knew beyond a doubt that she was attracted to him. Those things would work in his favor, and he'd get her to confess, of that he had no doubt. What frightened him was what he might have to do to get her there. There was always hypnosis, he supposed, but as Lisbon often pointed out, confessions obtained that way wouldn't hold up in court.

The knock on his door made him jump.

"Jane, it's Agent Lisbon," she said formally, in case Cherish was still in the room.

"Dammit," he muttered. He'd forgotten to call to tell her to stay home. He went to the door.

"She's gone," he said, standing back so she could enter. "Sorry I didn't call you in time."

Lisbon looked around the room with a detective's eye, noting the messy bed, and the bright red ribbon on the chair. The room smelled heavily of a cloyingly sweet perfume. She wrinkled her nose, inclining her head at the bed.

"So you found her naked…in your bed?"

"Yeah. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised, but, well, I was surprised."

"How the hell did she get in here?"

"Manager thought she was my daughter."

Lisbon made a face that Jane concurred with wholeheartedly.

She turned away from the disquieting vision of the disheveled bed, trying to blot out the even more disquieting image in her mind of what might have happened there between him and the girl.

"Aw, to have been a fly on this wall," she mused aloud.

"Don't tell me you're finding this funny? What a difference a day makes."

"Now that I know there wasn't forcible rape involved, I'm seeing things a little more clearly. This girl is a user. A sociopath, like you said. We need to get her immediately before she screws over some other guy—literally."

"The girl needs help, Lisbon," he said quietly. "I want to help her."

She looked at him in surprise.

"Did you read her file?" he continued. "Her father wasn't much more than a sperm donor. Her mother is rich, running the family corporation, so she's never at home—this from Cherish herself. Her mother feels guilty for her absence, so she's been spoiled and left to her own devices. She's looking to these older men for a daddy. I'm sure you must have figured all this out yourself."

She nodded, and he watched a distant pain cross her features.

"Wow. What a difference a day makes," he said, mildly sarcastic.

But something in her tone had begun to shift from wryness to a numbness he found troubling.

"You really think you can help her," she whispered. "It's not too late?"

"No, it's not too late. She's very young, for all she passes to be worldly. First I get her to confess, then I get her some professional help. Are you in with me on this?"

"Yes."

There was a faraway look on her face, as if she were barely listening to Jane's words. He moved closer to her, concerned with her strange reaction—or lack of reaction.

"I don't want her to go to jail for falsely accusing Roberts," he continued, but his eyes were on her. "That certainly wouldn't help her."

"No."

"Lisbon—"

"He was a fireman, like my father," she said suddenly. Jane's heart gave a large thump. He remained silent, holding his breath.

"He helped me get Dad home from the bar a few times. Kept his problem from the rest of the station. Came over once when I thought we had a prowler and Dad was passed out. I was sixteen."

She didn't have to explain the rest. "I thought I was in love," she said with a little laugh, reaching up to brush away an errant tear. "No one ever found out. He didn't hurt me, at least not physically. I didn't know he had a fiancé, not until after the fact."

"How long did it go on?" he dared to ask.

She shrugged. "About six months."

"It screwed me up for a long time," she continued. He guided her to the bed and she lowered herself onto it absently. "I became very…promiscuous for awhile. Not something I'm proud of."

"You were a kid," he said. "He took advantage of you." _And,_ he added to himself, _you were looking for a father figure too. Like Cherish._

"Yes, I can see that now, of course. I didn't go totally off the deep end, though, much as I wanted to. I couldn't. I still had responsibilities, had my brothers to look after, because God knows Dad wasn't up to it. But it was hard. It was always hard with him."

"And you took the brunt of it."

"Sometimes." She reached up and wiped at her tears in annoyance. "Dammit, I thought I was through with all this."

"Then…Cherish," he concluded.

"Yes."

Before Jane could think twice about it, he gathered her in his arms. She lay her head on his chest, and he knew she could hear the increased pounding of his heart at her nearness.

"I hope you've forgiven yourself."

He knew what it was like to be unable to do that. It was a hell he wouldn't wish on anyone, least of all Lisbon.

She sniffed a little. "I have. I've even forgiven the man. This case just brought everything back, and before I knew what Cherish was really like, I just wanted to put Roberts away for emotionally and physically damaging yet another girl."

He stroked her long hair, her head beneath his chin. This was quickly becoming the longest he'd held anyone in years. Lorelei didn't count. She had meant nothing to him but a ticket to Red John. But he didn't want to think about her, not with Teresa Lisbon in his arms. He kissed the top of her head, and then she began to pull away from him. Something within him cried out not to let that happen.

"Okay," she said, her voice struggling for normalcy. "I'm done with the pity party. I hate feeling weak like this."

"Hey," he said, grasping her chin with one hand. He pulled her head up to look at him. Her eyes glimmered faintly with tears, making them a deep forest green. He could get lost in that forest. Her lips looked wet and soft, and they beckoned to him. Did he dare?

"You have more bravery in your little finger than most men do in well, _all _their fingers. Toes too. Now would you give yourself a freakin' break?"

She smiled a little at his wit, along with the use of _freakin'; _so unlike him to use the modern vernacular.

His smile in return was soft and affectionate. And what she saw there, within the depths of his blue-green gaze, made her smile dim, her pulse jump, then madly skitter through her veins. He looked for all the world like he was going to…

Her eyes fluttered closed at the first touch of his lips on hers. He had meant it only to be a brief kiss of comfort, a way to snap her out of her melancholy. But when he moved his head back to gauge her reaction, he hadn't realized until he saw the dazed look in her eyes that he was actually waiting for permission to go on.

It was Lisbon who decided for both of them. Before he could speak, she had buried her hands in his hair and drawn him back to her mouth. His breath hitched as her lips met his again, and he made a sound of pleasure in his throat as the kiss deepened. It was a moment of intense sweetness, of suppressed longings suddenly and surreally fulfilled.

After a few moments, they broke the kiss at the same time, their breathing harsh in the stillness of the room. He waited for her to rise and run away, but she didn't; neither did he. His hands still rested on her shoulders, hers still played idly with the curls at his nape. He had the oddest desire to close his eyes and melt into her hands.

"I'm not sorry," he told her.

"I'm not surprised," she replied, and he was inordinately pleased to see a smile hover around her kiss-swollen lips. "I can count on one hand the number of times you've apologized and meant it."

He chuckled- a rich, sexy sound-and he felt her tremble a little.

"Are _you_ sorry?" he whispered. His finger came up to trace the curve of her bottom lip. He watched in fascination as her lips parted involuntarily.

She shook her head once, as if she'd suddenly lost the power of speech.

"Good," he said, before putting his hands on either of her flushed cheeks, tilting his head, and kissing her like he'd always imagined he would, in those rare times he'd allowed himself to imagine. He drew her body as close as he could, tempted beyond measure to lay her down on the bed and take this as far as she would let him. But he knew neither of them were ready for that.

"Jane," she breathed, as his kisses trailed from her mouth to her neck.

"Hmmm?"

"I should go," she said.

He pulled slowly back, kissing her one last time on the corner of her mouth

"Running away?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's not like you, Teresa."

"No. I just need to think." She moved away from his embrace and stood up, feeling a little dizzy from his kisses. She closed her eyes a moment, praying the world would stop spinning so fast.

"I thought you weren't sorry."

She opened her eyes to look at him, noted how his hair was even more unruly, this time by her own fingers. His eyes looked slumberous, his lips sensual, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with all the events of the last few days, especially what happened in the last two minutes.

"Just because I'm not sorry, doesn't mean it wasn't a mistake," she told him.

"Ouch," he said quietly, his face falling a little.

"Oh, God, Jane. You're not gonna be a girl about this, are you?"

He stood up, walking toward her. "No, Lisbon. And I know you're acting like this because you've had an emotional catharsis and you're embarrassed about your behavior. You might even be in shock. Understandable, I suppose, but no need to get snippy with me. It was just a consolation kiss."

"A what?"

"A consolation kiss. I was consoling you. We kissed. It happens sometimes. You know, emotional catharsis, like I said."

"Oh, I thought you meant consolation kiss, like consolation _prize_. You know, something one settles for," she replied tightly.

"Well, obviously the catharsis is over," he said dryly.

"Yes, and I have to work tomorrow."

"I guess this is good night then."

She paused, her hand on the doorknob. He could tell by her posture that there were a lot of things she wanted to say to him.

She settled for "Good night."

When the door closed, and he'd watched her through the window until she'd driven safely away, Jane looked around the cheap motel room, in awe that it had only been about thirty minutes since he'd swiped his key card at the door. He'd staved off a teenage stalker. Lisbon had confessed her secret. He'd kissed Lisbon. _Kissed_ her, and she'd kissed him.

Patrick Jane's world had officially entered Uncharted Territory.

"And me without my compass," he said to himself, his lips twitching with more than a hint of irony.

A/N: Yes, this was an emotional roller coaster, but I hope it wasn't too disorienting. Please let me know what you think.

Also, some complained that they didn't get an alert for my tag for "The Red Barn". It is up and accessible now, if you missed it.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter is coming to you much later than I had hoped. I suffered from writer's block for a few days, but thanks to my Twitter pals, just talking about it seemed to help, and the words began to pour out of me. I hope it was worth the wait.

**Chapter 4**

The first time Lisbon had gone home that night, she had hoped that, with the help of the two beers she'd consumed at O'Malley's, that she'd sleep like a log. Then there was Jane's hug in the parking lot. Well, that kept her mind occupied all the way home to her apartment, only to receive, the moment she opened her door, the frantic text from Jane about a naked girl in his bed. And there ensued her subsequent race to his motel, confessions and kisses, adding up now to another sleepless night attributable to Patrick Jane.

Of course she knew Jane was not totally to blame for the kiss. She'd kissed him back, after all. In truth, she would have kissed him all night if she'd been in the right frame of mind. But the whole thing with Cherish had totally disconcerted her, and as earth-shattering as their brief interlude had been, it also had felt awkward to be kissing him on the same bed in which a teenage girl had recently lain, naked. Also, Lisbon didn't need candles and mood music to get in the mood, but the ambiance in Jane's dumpy motel room left a lot to be desired.

At least, those were all her excuses.

The real reason she'd frozen up and shut down on him was because she was, quite simply, scared out of her mind. Lisbon sighed and turned over on her back to look up at the dark ceiling of her bedroom. She sighed heavily, then cringed to herself at her rotten behavior toward Jane after their kiss. He'd tried to help her out by attributing the kiss to him consoling her when she was upset, but they both knew better. She'd heard him moan at the sensations he was feeling, and she'd also caught an embarrassed glance at the bulge in his slacks, undeniable evidence of how their kisses had affected him. This had frightened her even more.

Her high school promiscuity had given way to a brief engagement (from which she had also run scared), without another serious relationship since. One-night-stands now and then. Casual dates. And for the better part of a decade her only steady relationship had been with Jane. She loved him to the brink of insanity, if her acts of unwavering loyalty were any indication. And he had admitted and conveniently forgotten that he'd said he loved her. This was scary stuff, especially for commitment-phobes like herself.

When the phone rang, she was almost grateful. A case in the middle of the night would be just the thing to get her mind off all of her troubling thoughts. But it was not to be. It was Jane.

"It's two in the morning, Jane," she said, returning easily to her earlier sarcasm.

"I knew you'd be awake," he replied, in that infuriating pseudo-psychic way he had. "Seeing as I'm awake too, I thought you might like to talk some more."

"I'm all talked out."

He chuckled. Had she ever noticed how sexy his rare chuckles were? Yes, she supposed she had.

"Well, I'll talk then."

"I could simply hang up…"

"True. But I had a really unusual evening, and I'd like to share it with my dear friend, Teresa."

She smirked. "Oh, really?"

"Yes. You see, I have this friend who's been having a rough time the last few days. It seems the past has come back to haunt her, and she's had to relive some painful memories."

"Jane—" she said, her voice low and laced with warning.

"Well, she came over tonight," he continued, undaunted, "dropped everything to help me out like she always does. One thing led to another, and we wound up making out on my motel bed."

"Jane…" This time she spoke in a broken whisper.

"I was wondering if you have any advice for me. I mean, she was obviously scared, so she said some pretty mean things to me afterwards."

"Maybe she regretted what she'd done. Maybe she decided it was unwise to be kissing her consultant."

"Nah, that wasn't it. She enjoyed the kiss. I'd bet a million of Rigsby's Big Gulps that she'd like to kiss me again."

"What would I do with a million Big Gulps?" she asked, annoyed.

She could hear the smile in his voice. "No way I'd lose _that _bet, Lisbon."

They were both quiet nearly a full minute.

"I'd very much like to kiss you again, Teresa," he said finally, and her mouth went dry, her heart picked up speed, and she fisted her free hand beneath the covers.

"Why?" she asked softly.

"Because I'm at a different place, now. I'm not ready to give up Red John, but I'm tired of him holding me back from living my life. What's more, I've come to realize that my life has been right in front of me the whole time; I've just been too obsessed with self-flagellation to do anything about it."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, Lisbon, that I'm not going to deny anything anymore."

His words hung there in the miles of space between them. They both knew what he meant, but somehow they each were afraid to voice it yet.

"I don't want to either," she said bravely. She wondered if she could have said that to his face.

"Good," he said simply. "Now, when this Cherish situation is over, I'd like to take you up on that. What do you say?"

She swallowed hard, but the tightness in her throat prevented her from speaking right away.

"Lisbon? You still there?"

"Yes," she managed at last.

"Yes, you're still there, or yes you'd like to pick up where we left off a few hours ago?"

"The second one," she said shyly.

He laughed. "It's okay to be afraid, Teresa. I'm scared shitless, if you want to know the truth. This seems so sudden, but then again, it's been a long time coming at the same time. You know what I mean?"

"Yes." Her thoughts, exactly.

"And I know there's still this case in our way—"

"I'm glad I told you," she suddenly interrupted. "About me and my…_situation_. I'm still ashamed of it, but it felt good to talk about it. I've never told another soul."

"You needn't be ashamed. We all have a past. We all did things we regretted when we were kids. Believe me, there are no stones coming from my direction."

"You…slept around?" She blushed furiously. "Never mind—I'm sorry. None of my business."

"No, that's okay. It's a fair question, considering what you've recently made me privy to." He sighed. "Did I sleep around? Aw, Teresa, before I met Angela, let's just say I loved women. _All _women. _Every_ woman. My dad wasn't exactly a role model for monogamy, either. He wasn't much of a role model for anything, for that matter. We have much more in common than you might think."

She considered his words a moment. She didn't know why this should be a revelation with regard to Jane, but somehow, it was. She'd only thought of him as being a married man and then remaining celibate until Lorelei, or maybe even before, with Erica Flynn (she still wasn't sure about her). Never had she considered that he'd had a life before his wife.

"Ladies man, eh?"

"Yes, once upon a time."

"Hmm," she said, leaving him to wonder what that meant.

"I have to say, Lisbon, you Catholics are onto something with all this confession jazz."

She smiled. "Are you ready to convert?"

"I may as well. I've got the guilt part down. It's that God thing that's holding me back."

"Belief in The Almighty is sort of a prerequisite, I'm afraid."

"_You _could almost make me believe, Lisbon," he said softly, and she felt her heart flutter a little.

"You think you can sleep now?" he asked after a charged moment.

"Maybe. You?"

"Maybe. I'm glad I called. I hated the way we left things."

"Me too. I suppose we should both try to get some sleep."

"Remember your promise? About after the case?"

"Yes…after the case…we'll see…"

"I want a promise, Lisbon."

"I promise."

"Damn," he said in mock annoyance. "Now how am I supposed to sleep?"

She laughed, not intending it to come out as throatily as it sounded. "Good night, Jane."

She thought she heard a muffled groan.

"'Night, Lisbon."

Of course, it was still a long time before either of them got any sleep.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane finished unbuttoning his vest, then his crisp, white dress shirt. He laid the clothing neatly over a chair to rest there along with his tie, and stood, waiting patiently. She walked to him then, averting her eyes at his partial nudity, and he felt the warmth of her hand touching his chest, then his back.

"Ow!" he said suddenly.

"Oops, sorry," said Van Pelt. "Had to re-position the tape."

"Geeze, it felt like you were skinning me alive."

"I said I was sorry," said the junior agent, trying to suppress a smile. "You've obviously never had your chest waxed."

"Not when you have skin as smooth as a baby's," he said with a proud grin. She blushed, for it was true. His chest and back were free of hair, his body surprisingly well formed and even lightly tanned. Talk about hiding your light under a bushel…

She patted his back where she'd attached the power pack to the wire.

"There. You're done."

"You guys will be in a van outside the restaurant, right?"

"Yes, Jane. We'll be very close. What are you afraid of? It's not like you're spying on a Mafia boss or something."

"She's just as frightening in other ways," he said grimly.

The bug they were using was an older device, but since they had to have Bertram sign off on the more high-tech models, they were stuck with this dinosaur. It would do the job just the same, so long as Cherish didn't try to get him out of his clothes. And Jane would certainly try everything in his power to prevent that.

"Just remember not to let her touch your lower back," she warned him. "Or take off your shirt."

"I really don't intend for it to go that far," he said dryly, reaching for his clothing.

The door to the interrogation room opened and Jane and Van Pelt's attention was drawn to their visitor.

"He's all ready for you, Boss," said Van Pelt cheerily.

"Uh, thanks," said Lisbon, but she couldn't seem to take her eyes off Jane's bare chest. "The boys are waiting for you in the van, Grace."

"Oh. Okay. On my way."

"Thank you, Grace," said Jane.

She smiled in return and brushed past Lisbon on her way out the door.

Lisbon let it close behind her and walked casually over to Jane. She'd only seen him in this state twice—both times during medical emergencies—so she'd only fleetingly noticed that he had a very pleasing body. She felt her face heating with awareness, and his full lips were formed into a small, knowing smile.

"Your wire is ready," she said. "But are you?"

"You know how much I hate undercover work," he said, pushing his arms through cotton sleeves. He began buttoning his shirt from the bottom, his eyes never leaving hers.

She arched a brow, trying desperately to ignore the sensual undercurrents in the room.

"Why? I would think an old conman like you would love the chance to put on a show."

"I don't like faking anything anymore."

"You didn't seem to mind your big exit on your way to Vegas," she reminded him, the pain of her last glimpse of him in the elevator returning full force.

Jane paused in his buttoning and reached out his hands to gently clasp her upper arms, drawing her a few steps closer. Her breath caught.

"Don't ever think I enjoyed one minute of that," he said seriously.

She nodded. She believed him. "Okay."

He reluctantly let her go, then picked up his tie with a sigh. Wearing these old nooses was something else he no longer enjoyed doing.

He began tying it with the graceful expertise with which he did most things, and she watched his hands move, fascinated. He turned to the one-way window to check out his reflection, straightening the knot until he was satisfied. He looked and smelled amazing. He always did, but when he put an extra effort into his appearance, he looked downright lethal. James Bond had nothing on him.

She handed him his vest, which he slipped on quickly, buttoning without looking. Neither of them spoke, enjoying the simple domesticity of their actions. She even held up his dark blue suit coat and helped him slip into it, brushing off the shoulders absently, adjusting his collar while he pulled his sleeves to the appropriate length outside his coat.

She was still brushing when she noticed he had stilled, and she looked up, meeting stormy blue-green eyes the exact color of his tie. She felt a desperate ache, low in her body, compelling her to lean forward just a few more inches to find his mouth once more. When his eyes widened slightly, she knew he had read her mind.

"When this case is over," he whispered.

"Yes," she said breathlessly. It took all her willpower to step back and release him from the thrall that had captured them both.

"Did you decide on a code word?" she asked him. Just in case he needed her to ride to his rescue again.

"Earl Grey," he replied.

She smiled. "Easy enough to remember."

"Yeah, for both of us."

Jane had called Cherish that morning, agreeing to pick her up a block away from her house so her mother wouldn't know who she was seeing. She'd tell her she was staying with a girlfriend. Jane would take her out to dinner in the restaurant of the The Citizen Hotel. Hopefully he could pull a confession out of her before he would have to take her up to the suite they'd reserved. She knew Jane was looking forward to that possibility even less than she was.

"I'll follow you to the hotel, and wait in the lounge while you two eat. The rest of the team will be in the van monitoring and recording, but I'll have an earpiece on in case you need me to _coincidentally_ show up, or rescue you in your hotel room. Again."

He wouldn't be wearing an earpiece or anything at his wrists, lest Cherish notice them, so he wouldn't be able to hear them talk to him. It made them all feel like he was going into this thing blind.

"I know the plan, Lisbon. It was _my _plan, remember?"

"With a few minor tweaks from me and the team. I just don't want anything to go wrong. I don't want any of us to have to go through this again."

"You and I both, Lisbon, believe me."

He took a deep breath. "All right. Let's get this over with."

She needn't tell him Cherish was only a girl, that she could likely do no illegal harm to him, especially now that she was of age. Jimmy Roberts, however, was still sitting in a holding cell in county lockup, living proof of the damage the disturbed young woman could inflict upon a man.

Before she could precede him out the door, Jane grabbed her hand.

"This will all be worth it, I swear," he told her, correctly reading her anxious expression.

"Famous last words," she said, but she squeezed his hand nevertheless.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane had borrowed Cho's undercover silver Camaro to pick Cherish up in style, with Lisbon trailing inconspicuously behind in the black company SUV. The team surveillance van was prepping in front of The Citizen.

Jane parked in front of the agreed upon house and waited a few moments, until Cherish Barto appeared from behind a garden wall. He got out of the car, going quickly around to open the door for her, giving her the entire treatment.

"Ooohh, sweet ride."

"Thanks. I dug it out of storage for the occasion."

"You do clean up nice, Patrick," she told him, her eyes roaming hungrily over him in the glow of the streetlight.

"Thank you," he said, flashing his smile so she could get the full effect. "And you are heartbreakingly beautiful, Miss Barto."

She looked very grown-up in her black, strapless, short dress, and the familiar stilettos. She carried a gold leather clutch, and long, dangling chandelier earrings hung from her ears. She wore her hair up, her bangs pinned smoothly to the side, sixties style. Jane felt sick to the stomach just looking at her, and it wasn't because she didn't look beautiful; it was precisely because she did.

"Cherry, remember?" She corrected him, red lips of that color forming a sensual pout.

"Of course," he said, "But you know, Cherish sounds much more grown-up."

He shut her inside and went around to the driver's side again. He glanced surreptitiously behind him to where he knew Lisbon was parked some distance back. It was comforting to know she was there.

They small talked about popular music and television shows—to which he had nothing to add, so mostly the conversation was one-sided. He was content for it to be so, chattering enough for the both of them. When they arrived at the hotel, he gave the keys to the valet and walked his date inside, listening absently as she oohhed and awwwed about the beauty of the lobby and the sexy atmosphere of The Grange restaurant. The lights were dimmed

They were seated and their waiter came by for their drink order.

"Scotch rocks," ordered Jane, who ordinarily didn't drink much.

"White wine," said Cherish nonchalantly.

The waiter looked at her carefully. "Pardon me, Miss, but I'm afraid I must ask for your ID."

"Oh, of course," said Cherish, reaching into her bag and bringing forth an expertly crafted fake one. She looked at Jane coolly, daring him to contradict her.

"Sorry, Miss…Bartholomew," said the waiter, and nodded to Jane. "Sir. I'll bring your drinks right out."

"That's quite all right," said Cherish. "They always card me, don't they, Daddy?"

"Uh, sure…pumpkin," said Jane with a grin, playing along. He dearly wished that drink would appear magically in his hand. The waiter looked at the couple sidelong, not believing either of them for a moment, but he hurried off to get their drinks.

Inside the van, Rigsby nearly choked on his nachos. He reached for his Big Gulp while Van Pelt patted him on the back.

"Now that's creepy," she said. "Poor Jane."

Cho took a bite of his sandwich, but said nothing.

Meanwhile, Lisbon had found a place in the bar next door to the restaurant, ordered a Diet Coke, and settled in for the long haul. She listened as Jane ordered trout and Cherish ordered steak, rare. _Yuck_.

"Geeze," she muttered. "This girl."

"Did you say something, Boss?" asked Cho in her ear.

She lifted her sleeve to her mouth. "No, not really. You guys getting everything okay?"

"Yeah. Just waiting for him to work his magic," added Rigsby.

"Hey, beautiful, this seat taken?"

Lisbon looked up to see a business type holding a drink and looking hopefully at the empty bar stool beside her.

"No," she said, "but I am." She gave him a cool, saccharine smile, and he went on his way.

"Don't you hate that?" said Van Pelt. "Getting where a girl can't sit alone in a bar and enjoy a drink any-"

"Shhh," said Lisbon, who had Jane's feed in one ear and the team's in the other. "I can't hear Jane."

"…so, what made you go for the rough stuff?" Jane was asking. It was Lisbon's turn to nearly choke.

Cherish grinned wickedly. "Aw, I knew you'd ask about it eventually. Men are always curious, even when they say they're not."

Jane leaned forward, feigning intense interest. "I admit that the thought is rather… titillating."

She giggled at his word choice, another reminder of just how young she was.

"I began reading S&M fiction online about two years ago. I found it to be very exciting, erotic. Then I started visiting chat rooms. One thing led to another…"

"Is that how you met Jimmy?" he asked.

She brushed the name aside with a waft of one small hand. "Jimmy's old news," she said, sounding bored.

"Well, he must have done something you enjoyed to keep your interest for a week? As you say, I find myself very intrigued in spite of myself."

The team and Lisbon held their collective breath, waiting for Cherish to answer and indict herself.

"I don't like to kiss and tell, Patrick. That's what you can always count on with me."

"But you like what he did to you?" Jane prompted.

"It was sex," she said simply.

Their meals arrived, and Jane had for once completely lost his appetite. He knew Lisbon must be as disappointed as he was. Cherish had said many things that might be interpreted to mean that Jimmy Roberts had done no real damage to her, but nothing that would hold up in court as proof that he hadn't raped her or held her against her will. There was no law against desiring kinky sex, and those predilections in no way meant that a woman deserved to be treated as a sex slave.

As he picked at his beautifully flaky fish, he tried taking another tack.

"I have to confess, Cherry, you scare me a little."

"Do I?" She seemed inordinately pleased. She took another bite of her steak, the blood pooling beneath the tender filet.

"I don't mean to harp on Roberts, but look at all the trouble he's in because of his relationship with you."

"I was underage," she said. "He deserves what he gets, the old perv."

"But you entrapped him."

"That's a matter of opinion," she replied. She scooted closer to him in the crescent-shaped booth, and he caught an unfortunate eyeful of her cleavage.

"You're in no danger from me, Patrick," she whispered, and he felt her bare toe slipping beneath his pant leg. "Unless you want to be."

Her hand slid down to his thigh, and he tensed in spite of himself. His hand came down to cover hers.

"What did I say about building up the tension," he whispered. "Talking does just as much for me as touching, at least to begin with."

She moved her hand to take a sip of her illegal wine. _At least we've got her on that,_ he thought morosely.

"Hmmm," she said, sliding across the red leather to sit right beside him. She moved her mouth close to his ear. "Let me tell you what I like, Patrick…" And she began to whisper scenarios so obscenely vivid that Jane just wanted to crawl under the table and escape. Instead, he had to pretend to be turned on.

Inside the van and in the neighboring bar, four people listened with rapt attention, the men shifting uncomfortably in their seats as Cherish detailed erotic fantasies none of them had ever even heard of.

"Jesus," said Rigsby, in awe.

When she seemed to be winding down, Jane cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, sweetheart, but after that, I uh, think I should visit the men's room."

"Would you like company?" she asked, no doubt having the idea of hot sex in a bathroom stall.

"All in good time, sweet Cherry," he said, making his eyes smolder darkly.

As he walked toward the restroom, he said softly, "If you can hear me, Lisbon, I'm really in the mood for some Earl Grey. Right now. In the lobby."

A/N: Not going so well for poor Jane, is it? I promised my Tweeps I'd post this tonight, so you'll just have to wait to see what Cherish has in mind for dessert.

Thanks for reading, and I do so hope you review.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry for the delay in this chapter—it was a hectic week for me. As you read it, you might begin to think, _oh, no, she's not going there! _You may also think that this chapter is about to veer sharply into "M" territory, but keep reading—I promise it's only a hard "T" :)

**Chapter 5**

Lisbon saw Jane across the lobby and moved swiftly across the black and white marble floor toward him. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hallway that led to the elevators.

"You gotta let me hypnotize her," he said as they walked. They stopped in the middle of the empty hall.

"No. No way. And just by mentioning it, you've probably tainted this whole damn thing." She brought her wrist microphone up to her mouth. "Guys, mute us for a few minutes, will you?"

"Sure, Boss."

"She's not going to admit anything this way," Jane continued. "She's not stupid; she knows I work with the cops. Everything she says about Roberts is up to interpretation. If you want a full confession—"

"Look, I want to get her as much as you do, but I've told you a million times, confessions under hypnosis are inadmissible."

"But this is just audio, Lisbon. Nobody would see, so how could they know?"

"_I _would know. The rest of the team would know."

"Meh. You're passing up a golden opportunity here."

She stared at him a moment, until it suddenly clicked with her. Her lips twitched.

"You're scared of this girl."

His face stilled, devoid suddenly of emotion. This was his tell.

"Ha! Yes you are. All those things she whispered to you scared the hell out of you, didn't they?"

"No," he said tonelessly.

"Bull butter. You are so full of crap." But her eyes were sparkling with amusement at his discomfort.

Jane's eyebrows shot up at her unusual turn of phrase.

"Bull butter, eh?"

"Yeah, you heard me. This was your idea, Jane. Now you're gonna man up and get back in there. Do what you gotta do while we have the chance."

She desperately wanted to get that little tramp.

At that moment, a bellman pushing an overflowing luggage cart moved past them in the narrow hallway. Lisbon stepped back against the wall and Jane stepped politely forward to allow him more room. Their movements had put him dangerously close, facing her, and she could smell the scotch on his breath. With any other man that would have been a turn off, but with Jane, she had the overwhelming desire to taste the alcohol that must linger on his lips.

His eyes darkened when he saw her focus on his mouth, and when the bellman passed, Jane didn't move away. Instead, he leaned even closer, willing her eyes to meet his.

"I'm not afraid of her, Lisbon," he said softly. "I'm merely afraid of what I would have to do to get her to talk now, without hypnosis. There are certain…methods I could employ that would have her begging to tell me whatever I asked."

"What methods?"

He grinned wickedly. "Trade secrets, I'm afraid."

She gulped, green eyes widening at his blatant sexuality. She was so unused to anything more than playful flirtation from him, that it was rather shocking to see him this way. She could get used to feeling warm all over just from looking at him.

"I don't want to do any of that, Lisbon, not to her," he continued. "I could earn her trust over time, but we don't have that luxury. I could probably put her off one more night, but if I didn't follow through on the next, she'd lose interest in me, and that would be that. Jimmy Roberts's fate would be sealed."

"You didn't seem to have trouble sleeping with Lorelei to get what you wanted," she said, unable to withhold the bitterness from her tone.

He closed his eyes, shaking his head in exasperation. "I don't want to go down that road with you again, Teresa. Things were different with Lorelei. Circumstances were different. In Vegas, I didn't have anything to lose."

At his meaningful look, Lisbon felt her heart pick up speed.

"I don't want you to sleep with Cherish," she told him. "That isn't what I meant. But it seems like you're giving up too easily. That's not like you."

"I know my own limitations, Lisbon. This girl is smart. She may even suspect we're trying to get her to confess. I haven't really made any headway with her, but the more I resist her advances, the more she seems-for lack of a more humble expression-to want me."

"I can understand that," she said, surprising him with her own directness.

He moved forward slightly, fully intending to go back on his own decree that they wait until after they'd closed this case.

"Boss," said Van Pelt suddenly in Lisbon's ear. "Don't you think Jane should be getting back to his date by now? Cherish might start getting suspicious and come looking for him."

"Yeah," she said into her sleeve. "Start recording again in about two minutes."

"Will do."

"Okay, Jane. Just try one more time. If you don't get anything out of her, then you can hypnotize her."

"Really?"

"Yes. But no one will know but us."

He grinned. "Why, Lisbon, haven't you become the rebel these days."

She grimaced at that characterization. "Just shut up and get back to work, will you?"

"I wish I could kiss you right now," he murmured, his eyes heated as he looked at her. Then he left her gaping after him as he strolled back to the restaurant.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cherish was sitting casually against the back of the booth, coolly sipping her wine as Jane slid in beside her.

"I was starting to worry you'd ditched me," she said with a feline grin.

"Just needed to blow off some steam, baby," he said suggestively.

"Well, next time you'll have to let me help you with that."

"Hmm," he said, and picked up his scotch. Out of the corner of his eye, Jane noticed her gaze flicking to his glass, then skitter away nervously. He thought better of his actions, and set down the drink, noting the tiny look of disappointment briefly clouding her features. It was gone in an instant, and Jane swirled the amber liquid around in his glass thoughtfully.

_The little she-devil's put something in my drink._

He put his free hand around Cherish's shoulders, and he bent toward her ear, effectively distracting her. Meantime, his other hand slowly drizzled the scotch onto the floor beneath the table.

"Hey, baby, what do you say we go upstairs? Get room service to send up some strawberries and crème fraiche."

"And champagne?" she asked hopefully.

"Anything for you."

He kissed her cheek, then turned and picked up his glass, hiding the missing contents with his hand, then pretending to drink so quickly that he hoped she hadn't noticed the glass had been empty. The small drop of scotch he'd tasted seemed slightly off, confirming she'd attempted to drug him. Probably something to lower his inhibitions, perhaps heighten his sexuality. This girl was seriously deranged.

When the waiter came round again, Jane signed for their meal, and they made their way, arm in arm, out to the lobby and toward the elevators. Halfway there, Jane feigned dizziness.

"Geeze, that second glass of scotch seems to have packed quite a punch," he said, swaying heavily into her. She stumbled on her high heels, laughing as she tried to hold him up.

"Feeling a bit tipsy, are you?"

"Must be the liquor combined with the intoxicating company," he purred.

They got into the elevator, Jane taking an internal breath, knowing what he had to do to pull this off.

He pushed her into a corner of the small enclosure, then began ravaging her neck and décolletage, whispering passionately of her beauty, his hands roaming up and down her sides, into her hair, skimming over her buttocks. He really was feeling nauseous by the time the elevator opened on the tenth floor, but he reminded himself it was for a good cause.

"Hey," he muttered, noting the number on the wall when the doors slid open. "We're on the wrong floor. Our room is on the eleventh. This is the tenth," he said for the team's benefit.

"I've got a surprise for you, Patrick," she said silkily.

"What?"

"Don't you like surprises?" she pouted up at him.

"Uh, sure baby. Especially the kind I get to unwrap." He played tantalizingly with the zipper on her back. Cherish shivered a little in response to his warm hand on the bare skin beneath her neck.

"Room 1025," he said, hoping Lisbon could hear.

She stopped at a room at the end of the hall. "Yes, here we are, courtesy of Mother's platinum card." She swiped the room keycard, opening the door to a luxurious suite.

"Wow," he said, unsteady on his feet. "This place is something else."

"Thought you would like it. Much better than that trashed out place where you live-no offense."

"None taken."

She took his hand and led him straight through the living area to the sunken bedroom, where a king-size, four-post bed dominated the room. The bedroom was decorated in butter yellow and cream, from the vertically striped wallpaper to the damask duvet, canopy, and bed curtains. Jane had to admit it was stunning. With amused irony, he repeated the words of a long dead pope: "It's a beautiful bed. Too bad I'll die in it."

She laughed at his wit, although he'd bet a million dollars she didn't know the allusion.

He leaned on her as they walked down the three steps, and she helped him settle onto the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed. He noticed that her luggage had already been sent up, and he trembled for real at the thought of what she might have brought for this assignation.

"Now then," she said, kneeling on the bench beside him. Her hands reached for his throat. "Since you seem to be feeling much more relaxed, why don't we loosen up this tight old tie a little…"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"What the hell is going on?" said Lisbon to the team. "This wasn't part of the plan. He was supposed to put her off one more night."

"He sounds drunk," said Cho.

"Well, he wasn't twenty minutes ago," she said.

"Sounds like they were going after it in the elevator," added Rigsby.

"It's just an act," said Lisbon. _It had better be, _she said to herself. _Or he's a dead man._

"He must have come up with a new way to get her talking," piped up Van Pelt.

"He hasn't asked for help yet," noted Cho.

"All right, all right. We give him a chance. But listen closely for _Earl Grey_. The minute he says it—"

"We're on it, Boss. Don't worry," said Van Pelt.

Lisbon grew silent again, afraid to listen to anymore of Jane and Cherish's tryst, but more afraid not to.

_Jane, you'd better know what the hell you're doing…_

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You okay, Patrick?" Cherish asked him, looking concerned at how nonresponsive he'd suddenly become.

"Of course," he lisped.

She 'd removed his tie, his suit jacket, and his vest, and had begun working on his dress shirt buttons in earnest. He could feel the anticipation exuding from her like a tangible thing.

"Wait," he said belatedly, putting his hands on hers. "I like to keep my shirt on."

"What? Why?"

He shrugged. "Just a thing. I don't like people touching my chest or back."

She looked at him with complete understanding. "Just like Christian Grey," she said solemnly. "Aw, you poor baby!"

He had no idea what she'd meant by that, but whatever he'd accidentally stumbled upon to get her not to remove his shirt and expose the wire, he was grateful. In fact, she was so taken by his reply that she began covering his face and neck with kisses. He withstood them stoically. After a moment, she stepped down from the bench and began taking off her own clothing, turning around so he might pull down her zipper, which he did as awkwardly as he could manage.

When her dress puddled around her feet, she stepped out of it, and he looked blearily at her. She was wearing a black, patent leather bra and matching thong, along with garter belt and stockings. She still wore her stilettos.

"Shiny," he exclaimed. "Did Jimmy buy you that outfit?" he asked, carefully enunciating.

She stared at him a moment, then shrugged, likely believing, as he'd intended she would, that he'd remember nothing in the morning.

"Jimmy liked to wear the leather. Me-he liked me to look like a little girl."

"That's sick," he slurred, meaning it with all his heart. She laughed.

"You are so old-fashioned, Patrick. Tell me, what makes you really, really hot? You like to be spanked? Flogged? Dominated?" With each word, she walked closer to him, until her ample breasts were nearly in his face.

"I don't know," he said, and it was difficult to keep the indifference out of his voice.

"Do you have anything against taking off your pants for sex?" She was making fun of him, but he didn't mind her thinking he was a bit staid; it was a matter of self-preservation. He shook his head and held his breath as she went for his fly. She noticed immediately that he was not aroused.

"Patrick, do you need a little help getting started?"

He hissed as her hand grazed him, and his own hands went down to gird his loins.

"Don't worry about me," he said, grinning crookedly. "I'll catch up."

"I hope I didn't give you too much," he heard her say under her breath as she knelt down to remove his shoes. He hoped the team had caught her confession of her latest crime. She looked up at him, imagining that he would find her position at his feet erotic. He merely gave her a dazed grin.

She took his limp hands and pulled him to his feet, slowly pulling down his zipper before letting his slacks drop at his feet. He stepped out of them, then winced as her cool fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs. He stopped her from removing his underwear with a surprisingly firm grip.

"What did Jimmy to do to please you? I'm feeling a little…in…ad…e…quate these days…"

"Jimmy did everything I asked him to. He was rough, but I like it rough." Her hands slid round to slip beneath the tail of his shirt to almost painfully squeeze his buttocks. He tried desperately not to flinch.

Instead, he reached up, touched the mottled blue, brown, and black bruises above her breasts, only now beginning to fade.

"You wanted him to do this to you?"

She closed her eyes, reveling in his touch. "Oh, yes."

He hoped Lisbon was getting all of this.

"Would you like me to teach you?" she asked, her breaths coming faster.

He could have said _Earl Grey_ right then. But he wanted a full confession from her, something that was sure to stand up in court.

"Please," he said softly.

She opened her eyes and smiled brilliantly, then her face contorted into a stern mask.

"Get up on the bed," she ordered. "And call me _Mistress_, or I'll have to punish you."

"Yes, Mistress."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Dear God," said Rigsby, staring in shock at the small speaker in the van. "Is he seriously going to let her do this?"

"But she's confessed that it was consensual with Roberts," said Van Pelt.

"Not the actual sex," Cho pointed out.

"Boss," said Rigsby. "What do you think? Should we save him?"

Back in the bar, Lisbon was sorely tempted to order something much stronger than Diet Coke. Every sensual sound, every lascivious word said between Jane and that girl was like a dagger through her heart. He was letting things go much farther than they'd agreed upon, but, she had to admit, he was getting results.

"He hasn't said _Earl Grey_ yet," she reminded them. "He's a big boy; I'm sure he knows what he's doing." Or so she prayed.

"Okay," said Rigsby skeptically.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane lay spread eagle atop the bed, as his new mistress had instructed. He watched, forcing himself to relax, as she went to each of the four posts, pulling out silk scarves that had been hidden beneath the bed curtains. She'd obviously been up here earlier in the day, setting the scene.

She tied his wrists and ankles firmly to each post, and he looked dully up at the ceiling, hoping he appeared suitably drugged. He'd managed to talk her into allowing him to keep his modesty for a bit longer and keep his underwear on.

Cherish pulled out her suitcase from the closet, setting it on the bench at the foot of the bed. She began humming underneath her breath as she rummaged through its contents. He closed his eyes, small tendrils of trepidation curling around his spine. He focused on the power pack of his wire pressing into his lower back, and it gave him a comforting feeling. On the other end of this wire, Lisbon was listening, linked to him in his moment of insecurity. Surely she would know what he was trying to do, that he'd much rather be in bed with her, not being a submissive to this troubled young woman.

He snuck a peek at Cherish, who by now had found what she was looking for, and held up what appeared to be a cat-o'-nine tails made of fine, black leather, the handle a rather scary phallic shape.

_Holy shit!_

She began playing with the soft suede fringe of the toy, running it through her fingers in what she assumed was an enticing manner. He thought quickly, trying to avoid crying tea just yet. He felt her comfort level with him was fairly high, now that she believed he would forget everything she said while under her power and the drug's influence.

"You're not going to hurt me with that, Mistress, like when Jimmy raped you? I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

She trailed the tails over his naked thigh. "He didn't rape me, Patrick, remember?" she said sounding a little impatient with the topic. "You can't rape the willing, as they say. But you should probably have a safe word."

_Gotcha!_

"How about…Earl Grey?" He suggested, bending his head over as close as his restraints allowed him toward the hidden microphone.

She looked askance. "Any relation to Christian?"

"Uh, no. It's a type of tea. Who's Christian?"

She laughed. "Never mind."

She moved the leather flogger to the other thigh, then, without warning, gave the weapon a quick _thwack _near the apex of his spread thighs.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelped.

She grinned sadistically. "You like that?"

She raised her hand to strike him again, and his entire body tightened up in horrific anticipation. Even through his briefs, the stinging and the pain had been breathtaking, and just one more inch higher—he shuddered just thinking about it.

"Earl Grey! Earl Grey!" he cried, his fear of that archaic weapon making him forget his act and beg for mercy.

She frowned in disappointment. "So soon? Really?"

She shrugged, tossing the toy back in the suitcase. "Maybe we should start you off with something a little less…punishing. Tell me, Patrick, how do you feel about…feathers…?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"He said it!" said Lisbon into her wrist mic. "I'm on my way! Rigsby, Cho, meet me in 1025 now!"

She debated between taking the stairs or the elevator, the doors sliding open as she passed it in the hallway, deciding for her. She got inside, pounding the button marked _10_, and paced in the small enclosure as it hurled her upward to the tenth floor. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored walls, noting how wild her expression was. She took a deep breath to try to calm herself.

Once the door finally opened again, she rushed down the hallway until she found the correct suite, pounding on the door the moment she arrived.

"No!" Jane was saying in her ear, somewhere between a strangled laugh and a sob. "That tickles! Please! I'm dying here, Mistress! Holy-! _Earl Grey! Earl Grey!_"

"CBI! Open the door right now!"

She reached into her jacket for the Glock in her shoulder holster, holding it at the ready.

She banged her other fist again.

"CBI! Open this door before I kick it open!" Of course, the door was too thick for her to actually do that, but hopefully Cherish wouldn't know she was bluffing.

Several people opened their doors curiously up and down the hallway.

"Get back in your rooms!" she hollered, flashing her gun. "Police business." Most of the tenants fearfully complied.

She heard a shuffling in the room before someone on the other side turned the deadbolt and removed the chain. Then the door opened, and Cherish appeared, cinching a hotel robe closed at her waist.

"Agent Lisbon?" she said in surprise. "What are you doing here? What's going on? Something happening with my case?"

Lisbon brandished the Glock and pushed past the girl into the living room. Seeing no one there, she instinctively found her way to the sunken bedroom, where she was met with the surprise of her life. Cherish trotted after her.

"You can't go in there. This is a private party," said Cherish, outraged.

"Hey, Lisbon," said Jane from his place of bondage. "How kind of you to drop in."

"Mother of God," she breathed, her jaw dropping. Jane couldn't help smiling at her reaction, despite the extreme embarrassment of his predicament.

Cherish was barely controlling her own anger. "Listen, bitch, we are two consenting adults. This is none of your damn business. You can just take your jealous ass back on out of here."

Jane visibly cringed when he heard the girl insulting Lisbon. _That was a mistake._

Fuming, Lisbon pointed the Glock at Cherish. "No, you listen to me, little girl. _Your _ass is under arrest."

"For what?"

"Making false accusations against Jimmy Roberts, for starters. Along with underage drinking and using an illegal ID."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"We have it all on tape," Lisbon said triumphantly. "Jane is wearing a wire."

"What?"

Cherish's eyes flew to Jane where he lay watching the two women warily. She looked utterly devastated by his betrayal, and for a brief moment, Jane actually felt sorry for her.

"Patrick?"

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said softly.

Cho and Rigsby arrived in the room, guns drawn. They surveyed their surroundings, Rigsby unable to stifle a yelp of laughter at the half-naked consultant tied to the bed. Even Cho's mouth quirked at his situation.

"Hi, guys," said Jane with a grin. "Don't you love it when the cavalry arrives just in time?"

"Cuff her," Lisbon ordered. "And be sure you read her her rights."

"And you can add attempted drugging to those charges," said Jane.

"She drugged you?" said Lisbon, outraged anew. No wonder he'd sounded drunk.

"_Attempted_, Lisbon. I poured out my drink under the dinner table. You'll have to get the carpet analyzed, I suppose, but I'm sober as a judge." He gave Cherish a knowing wink.

"How did you know?" asked Cherish, eyes round.

"I told you before: don't kid a kidder."

Rigsby brought out his handcuffs from his pants pocket, pulling Cherish's arms behind her back where he fastened them gently on her small wrists. She leaned her slight weight against him.

"Oohh," she said flirtatiously. "Are those Smith and Wesson's? They're my favorite brand of handcuffs. Make them nice and tight, will you, Agent?" She turned her head and batted her long lashes at Rigsby, who flushed scarlet. Cho almost smiled.

"This will never hold up in court, you know," said Cherish venomously to Lisbon, who marveled at the girl's ability to change emotions on a dime. "I've heard about this kind of thing—entrapment, that's what they call it. My mother will hire the best lawyers-"

"Go for it. Get her out of my sight," ordered Lisbon in disgust.

Rigsby propelled the girl out of the bedroom, but Cherish couldn't resist taunting Jane over her shoulder.

"You'll regret this, Patrick! I swear to God you will!"

Jane and Lisbon ignored her threats.

"You need some help with him?" asked Cho, nodding toward Jane.

"I'll take care of him," she said darkly. "Just get the girl to HQ and we'll be along in a bit." Cho nodded and hurried after Rigsby. Lisbon re-holstered her gun and brought her wrist to her mouth. "Van Pelt?"

"Yes, Boss."

"You can cut power to the wires. We're done here."

"Will do."

The faint buzzing in her ears instantly ceased, whereupon she removed her earpieces and dropped them into her jacket pocket. She moved closer to the bed, her expression turning positively iniquitous as she observed the helpless victim lying prone upon it. So why did Jane find his body suddenly humming with the beginnings of real arousal?

"Hmmm," she said, her cheek dimpling with her smirk. "What do we have here? This is a very interesting situation you've found yourself in, Mr. Jane."

"I'm surprised at you, Teresa. I would think your Catholic upbringing would find this whole scene utterly abhorrent."

"What I really find abhorrent, Jane, is that once again, you went off the reservation and put yourself in danger." Her voice was still calm, but he knew she was furious with him. Naturally, it made him smile.

"I was never in any danger, but I appreciate your concern. Now, are you going to untie me here?" She ignored his request.

"Once again," she continued, eyes on his, circling the bed like a predator sizing up its prey, "you put this whole operation in jeopardy, without any thought about how it might affect the team's jobs. I think you deserve to be punished."

She stopped at the foot of the bed, looking curiously into Cherish's bag of tricks.

"What do we have here?" She reached in and brought out a twelve-inch, wooden ruler. "Speaking of a Catholic upbringing…those nuns always knew just how to hit without leaving a mark, but boy did it sting something awful."

"Lisbon…" he said, eyebrows shooting up in surprise and, truth be told, rising excitement.

She walked to his side again, slapping the ruler experimentally against her palm.

"I have to admit, Jane, seeing you like this, it's like a dream come true for me. I always thought that you deserved a good spanking for some of your childish shenanigans. Tonight is no exception."

His eyes darkened noticeably. "Did you, now. Well, here I am. Fulfill your deep, dark fantasies. If you dare, that is…"

Her eyes glinted with a hint of unfamiliar lechery, and of very familiar challenge. She removed her jacket and holster, her gaze sliding over the increased rise and fall of his chest beneath his white shirt, his strong, lightly tanned thighs and calves-_Tan? How is he tan?—_noting the now audible sound of his breathing filling the room. When her inspection settled upon his groin, Jane swallowed a moan, feeling his body tightening in anticipation.

She climbed on the bed, ruler still in her grasp.

"Where should I begin?" she asked thoughtfully. "Too bad you're not lying on your stomach—"

She never saw it coming, which, of course, was Jane's complete intention. He grabbed her small, lithe body and pinned her quickly beneath his. Gone were his silken bonds-Cherish's amateur knots were no match for an old Houdini like himself.

She looked up into his eyes with sudden, irresistible desire. Obeying her unspoken command, his mouth descended passionately to hers.

**A/N: "Yes, Mistress Donna, may I have another?" LOL **

**So, yes, I admit to having read **_**Fifty Shades of Grey. **_**It was just as I'd heard—slightly above-average fanfiction that would never have gone anywhere had it not had all the kinky sex, which, by the way, becomes very repetitive very quickly. Trust me, our own Rothelena does a much better job if you're into erotica. I couldn't resist giving my own tongue-in-cheek homage to the novel in this chapter. I hope it wasn't too over-the-top for you.**

**And don't worry, this story is far from over…**

**Please review and let me know what you thought.**


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I know many of you continue to be disgusted by Cherish. That's quite all right—hopefully you find something to feel for her about too, at least for awhile. And now, as requested by many of you resenting my last cliffhanger, I pick up right where I left Jane and Lisbon: in bed! (I don't think it goes completely over to an M rating yet, but pretty close )

**Chapter 6**

The moment Jane's lips touched Lisbon's, it was as if he were on mentalist sensory overload. She tasted faintly of soda—he delved more deeply with his tongue, and she moaned—_mmmm…Diet Coke. _He almost smiled._ Lisbon and her diet drinks and bear claws._

He slid his hands into the gentle waves of her hair, the fragrance of a new shampoo—coconut—evoking lovely memories of the beach. She was soft and pliant, curving sensually in all the right places, yet amazingly lithe and strong. Beneath his fingers, he could feel her pulse pounding in her smooth neck.

She was so wonderfully responsive to him, and it felt as if her body were melting into his. They would fit well together, he thought with a certainty, he and his little boss. He wondered faintly if he was too heavy atop her, but when he lifted some of his weight, she pulled him back down to her, bending her knees so that his arousal was right where both of them wanted it most. With just thin cotton underwear covering him, it was almost too pleasurable to bear. He dragged his mouth from hers, burying his face in the sweet warmth of her neck. She raised her hips and he gasped into her ear.

"Teresa…stop. You're driving me crazy here."

His hands moved to her shoulders, gliding down the shapely upper arms revealed by her sleeveless blouse, then resting on her sides, just beneath her heaving breasts.

She laughed in a low, sexy way he'd never heard from her, and it was all he could do not to tear her clothes from her body and slide into her tempting heat.

He grinned suddenly, realizing what was going on.

"This is payback," he said, nuzzling her ear.

"Hmmm?" she said shakily. Her hands threaded through his hair, and she shivered at his rasping breath on her neck.

He raised his head to look at her. "You're still mad at me for coming up here with Cherish."

She raised her hips again and he closed his eyes, jaws tightening as he fought for control.

"Don't push me, Teresa. I'm not so sure you want this yet."

She paused, the mischief in her eyes fading to annoyance.

"How do you know what I want?"

"Ex-psychic, remember?" His eyes glinted with enough mischief for the both of them.

"There's no such thing as psychics,"she said wryly.

"Aw, I think it's pretty easy to figure you out, Agent Lisbon." He pressed a condescending kiss on the tip of her pert nose. "Despite appearances, you have no intention of having sex with me today."

He felt her stiffen beneath him, then push on his chest. She was obviously angry and embarrassed at being discovered.

"You're right. I'm really not ready for any of this yet."

He sighed in frustration, and reluctantly rolled off of her and onto his back.

"I got her to confess, Lisbon. You claimed you wanted that too. You also said to do what I had to do."

"I didn't mean for you to come up to this room with her, let her tie you up, and torture you with her kinky sex toys."

"I was pretending, Lisbon."

"Ha. I heard you, remember? Even the great Patrick Jane couldn't have faked that kind of reaction. I just wonder—"

"If I liked it?" he finished for her. "Not one damn minute of it. I allowed myself to have the appropriate physical reactions, to play into her sick desires and get her talking. Well, all save one reaction in particular."

She sat up and looked at him, her hair a mess from his hands, lips swollen from his kisses, her neck splotchy from where his stubble had abraded her sensitive skin. It was all he could do not to hold her down and ravage her. When her eyes rested on the fullness in his briefs, she flushed in acknowledgement, and he felt a painful stirring there.

"That didn't happen until you began teasing me with that naughty ruler, Sister Teresa."

He grinned at her, caught the twitch of her hand. She wanted to touch him, he realized. And he desperately wanted to let her. But already she was regretting their brief encounter, and it made him feel sadly bereft. So, with a sigh, he sat up and got off the bed.

"Serves you right," she admitted finally, getting up herself. "Next time, stick to the plan."

"Or what? You'll torment me some more with your feminine wiles? You could check out Cherish's bag of tricks over there, but I'm sure you couldn't find a better instrument of torture than those hips of yours."

She angrily ignored his words and reached for her Jacket, but froze as she watched him methodically unbuttoning his shirt.

"What—what are you doing?"

He grinned at her renewed discomposure, but kept unbuttoning. Two could play the teasing game. He reached the bottom button, then released the cufflinks at his wrists. He parted his shirt, moving it slowly over his shoulders. All the while she watched him, unable to hide how pleased she was with what she saw.

His hand went to his stomach and he watched her eyes widen as he touched himself. But then he grasped the tape Van Pelt had used earlier to secure his wire, debating whether to pull it off quickly or slowly. She smirked when she realized how she'd been played.

"The fast band-aid approach is usually best," she said.

"Really?" He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're lying."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

He took a deep breath and pulled. A few of the hairs from his stomach were caught beneath the tape, and he gasped in sudden, surprised pain. Tears pricked the backs of his eyes, and he hunched over, holding the dangling wires of the listening device.

"Damn!"

She laughed. "Maybe you aren't a fan of pain after all, you big baby."

Some of her ire melted away and she walked around the bed to help him remove the power pack from his back. Her touch caused him to shiver as she slid a fingernail beneath a corner of the tape. Slowly, she began to pull. The small hairs there tugged a bit, but she eased it off gently, and he was surprised there was little pain this time.

When she finished, she surprised him further by caressing his back and planting a kiss in the middle of his spine. He closed his eyes as her hands skimmed lower, gliding over his firm behind. He heard the wire drop softly to the floor as she embraced his back, her hands reaching round to soothe the spot where he'd torn the tape from his stomach. His abdomen convulsed as she hugged him more tightly, her cheek resting against the back of his shoulder.

"I'm not usually such a tease," she whispered. "You just…pissed me off."

"You were jealous," he stated.

She thought about denying it, but there was really no point with him.

"Yes."

He turned in her arms, looking down into her bright eyes, willing her to understand.

"When I realized she'd tried to drug me, I saw a golden opportunity to get her guard down. She didn't think I'd remember anything she told me. And I didn't have to hypnotize her, so I thought that would please you. It was perfect."

His hand brushed her hair gently back from her face. "She's a child to me, Teresa. I prefer _women._ Sexy, green-eyed, CBI women, in particular."

Her face warmed beneath his admiring gaze. It was so surreal, hearing him talk to her this way, seeing him looking at her with blatant desire. Seeing him in only his underwear. She shook her head a little in wonder, and he smiled, sharing in her feeling of unreality.

"I'm tired of fighting with you," she said, her hands settling on his warm, bare chest.

"Yeah, me too. Shall we kiss and make up?"

"Yes, Mr. Jane, may I have another?"

He grinned and bent his head to find her lips again. This time he was welcomed back, without reservation, without the feeling that she was holding back or teasing or even angry. She was just Lisbon_. His_ Lisbon.

He tugged gently on the hem of her blouse until it came out of her slacks, and he touched her tiny waist beneath it. Her hands got busy too, gliding up and down his lightly muscled back. She opened her mouth to his seeking tongue, and things became heated very quickly.

His deft fingers found her breasts and the front closure of her bra. He hesitated there a moment, but when she increased the passion of her kisses, he released the clasp and cupped her, his thumbs moving in delightful circles around her hardened peaks. The sounds she made in her throat wildly excited him, and he backed her to the bed again, anxious to discover other pleasured noises he could elicit from her.

Naturally, the real world had to intrude in the guise of Lisbon's cell phone. Lisbon tore her mouth away from Jane's, using a few expletives he'd never heard from her sweet lips before. She extricated herself from Jane's hands and moved over to her jacket pocket, while Jane threw himself upon the bed with a long groan of frustration.

"Lisbon," she answered her phone gruffly. It was Van Pelt.

"Boss, Cherish was literally screaming for her mother and Ardiles, so I've let her have her one phone call. Of course, her mother has called Ardiles. We're meeting them at HQ."

"Dammit! I was hoping we could hold them off until we could get the recording together. How long will it take for you to burn a decent CD?"

"Not long. I'm on it now."

"I trust you're leaving out the private conversation between me and Jane."

"Of course, Boss."

"Good. Jane and I will be there soon. Thanks, Grace."

"See you in a few."

Lisbon ended the call and closed her eyes, still feeling her pulse pounding steadily in her head as well as the unsatisfied place quite a bit lower. She risked a glance at Jane, so beautiful, so tempting on the bed. If Van Pelt hadn't interrupted, she and Jane would both be naked by now.

"Let me guess," he was saying, staring up at the ceiling. "Cherish is throwing a fit and crying for her mommy."

"That's about the size of it. We'd better get over there so we can put this in the best possible light to Ardiles. The shit is about to hit the fan because we didn't have clearance to record Cherish."

Jane sat up, running one hand through his hair, his nicely formed back bending over in resignation.

"Time to pay the piper," he said.

"Is that what we're calling Bertram these days? I still think of him as ass—"

"Now, Lisbon. I don't like the guy either, but once hears her confession, he'll be on our side to save face."

"I hope you're right."

Lisbon reached beneath her blouse to re-fasten her bra, still eyeing Jane as he came around the bed in search of his trousers. He picked them up from the floor and stopped in front of her.

"This isn't finished between us, Agent Lisbon," he said softly, his bright sea-green eyes boring down into hers.

She went up on tiptoe and kissed his full lips. "No, it certainly isn't, Mr. Jane."

"Ow!" he said suddenly as a stinging _whack_ exploded across his backside. Lisbon stood with barely contained mirth, gripping the ruler she'd hidden in her hand. She was really keeping him off balance if he hadn't noticed her secretly palming it.

She laughed up at him as he attempted to wrestle the offending weapon from her hands. The ensuing struggle was actually quite…invigorating, both of them breathless again as he held the ruler above her head so she had to jump tantalizingly against his bare chest to reach it. He tossed it effortlessly into Cherish's abandoned luggage, distracting her while he pulled her body to his and stole a kiss, laughter still hanging on their lips.

"Ardiles is going to beat us there," Lisbon said against his mouth. "And likely Bertram too."

"Meh," he said, relishing the feel of her small hands on his skin. He moved to kiss her neck. "The show can't start without us. Who would they have to yell at?"

"Ardiles will take it out on the team. Get dressed, will ya? You're distracting me."

She pushed him away and he grinned at her, but obediently pulled on his slacks. She was pleased to note it was still difficult to zip his fly.

"The feeling's mutual," he told her, and her breath caught at his smoldering expression. Damn, he was too sexy for his own good. How had she resisted him for so long?

They finished dressing in silence, the hum of their heightened awareness serving as a kind of sensual background music.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"What the hell is going on here, Agent Lisbon?" demanded Director Bertram, his expression haughty and supremely annoyed at having to actually lower himself to make an appearance at CBI Headquarters. He was dressed for dinner, and had likely had to leave his date to deal with this crisis, which he had already attributed to Jane, and thus, to Lisbon. Bertram was holding court in Wainwright's old office. Before she could reply, Osvaldo Ardiles tapped on the door and walked in without an invitation.

"Sorry, Sir. Ardiles," she acknowledged waiting ADA. But the attorney was in no mood for niceties. Lisbon and Ardiles sat in the chairs opposite Wainwright's desk, and Jane settled, naturally, on the couch against the wall.

"Your team tells me Jane suspected Miss Barto of misrepresenting her statement about her kidnapping."

"_Alleged_ kidnapping," corrected Jane. Everyone shot him a dirty look, including Lisbon. He was not helping matters.

"Yes, sir," Lisbon replied. "And we had Jane go undercover, with a wire. He got Miss Barto to confess totally of her own accord. At the very least, we can charge her with attempting to drug Jane, underage drinking, a counterfeit ID—"

"You authorized this?" interrupted Ardiles, looking to Bertram.

Lisbon tried to convey all the urgency she could as she looked at her boss, silently begging him to trust her.

"Of course he did," Jane replied for the Director. "As a matter of fact, it was more his idea than mine. He thought Cherish was acting very suspiciously, and ordered that I try to get a confession. Now we can save an innocent man—well, relatively speaking—from going to prison for kidnapping and rape."

"Jane—" protested Bertram, rising from his seat in anger.

"Now, sir, don't be modest. You deserve all the credit."

"Holy shit, Gayle, this is not going to play well with the public," said Ardiles. He wasn't looking forward to telling the District Attorney or possibly the Attorney General that he had to throw out a seemingly cut and dried, high profile case involving a very sympathetic young girl.

"Nonsense," continued Jane. "The media, and thus the public will eat this kind of thing up. They'll even dub her the Sacramento Lolita or some such drivel. Throw in all the S&M and you have the makings of a Lifetime movie or maybe even a cinematic biopic—"

"You have her confession on tape?" demanded Ardiles.

"Yes, sir," said Lisbon quickly, before Jane could open his mouth again. "Agent Van Pelt is burning it to a CD as we speak."

"You know, Gayle, I really don't like you going behind my back on this. The DA isn't going to be too happy either."

"We had to act quickly," said Jane. "The Director made a snap decision based on a gut feeling. Right, sir?"

"And you got this all recorded?" Bertram confirmed hesitantly of Lisbon. "Nothing untoward? No…hypnotizing or some other form of Jane's…tomfoolery?"

"No monkeyshines, high jinks, mischief, or shenanigans, I assure you," said Jane wryly.

"No sir," said Lisbon, wishing she was closer to Jane so she could elbow him in the side or step on his foot to shut him up. Or maybe a good old fashioned punch in the nose. Her hand fisted just thinking about it. Jane caught the action and grinned knowingly.

"Well, before we hand this over to the DA, let's have a listen, why don't we," said Bertram, giving Jane and Lisbon a look of warning.

As if on cue, Van Pelt came to the door and tapped politely. Bertram gestured that she enter. She came in with her laptop.

"Sir, Boss, here's tonight's recording. Sometimes the recording was kind of…spotty, given the older equipment, but we can still hear clearly the most damning stuff. Just press this key here…"

_Bless Grace for her clever explanation, _thought Lisbon.

"Thank you, Agent. We'll take it from here," said Bertram, dismissing Grace, who happily scurried from the room. Jane smiled at her, and Lisbon nodded gratefully, wishing with all her soul that she could follow after her.

Lisbon listened once more to the dinner conversation between Jane and Cherish earlier, inwardly cringing at the innuendo, while Jane reclined on the couch, smiling as if listening to pleasant music.

"This is where I realize she's drugged my drink," said Jane helpfully at the appropriate moment.

The stuff that was harder to explain came when Jane and Cherish were in the hotel room and Jane was reacting to Cherish's dominatrix act.

"You realize you could be charged with corrupting a minor, or possibly sexual assault," said Ardiles to Jane, his eyes wide with shock.

"She turned eighteen yesterday," said Jane, casually looking at his fingernails. "And besides, _I _certainly wasn't the one doing the assaulting."

"Is that true, Lisbon?"

"Yes, it is. We uh, waited specifically for that milestone to pass before pursuing this, to save Jane and the CBI from liability."

Cherish's bald confessions left no room for doubt of her complicity with Jimmy Roberts's sexual deviance, however.

"Jesus Christ," muttered Ardiles under his breath. After the team entered the hotel room, the CD ended, and the three of them sat in Wainwright's office, two of them in stunned silence.

"Well," said Bertram at last. "I think that recording speaks for itself. Good job, Jane. Lisbon."

Ardiles shook his head. "I guess I've no choice but to officially press charges against Miss Barto, and drop those against Roberts." He rose to leave. "Next time, Gayle, I'd appreciate the head's up. This still seems pretty fishy to me, but the evidence is undeniable."

Bertram and the others rose to see him off. "Here, Os, feel free to take this CD to the DA, with my regards."

He opened the disc drive and handed the younger man the disc.

Ardiles looked at the three of them suspiciously. "You guys run a pretty fast and loose ship around here. I trust you'll help me handle some of this media shitstorm that's about to rain down on us?"

"Of course. I'll be happy to do a joint press conference. Just tell me when."

After he'd gone, Bertram fairly exploded.

"I ought to fire both of your asses right now! Unauthorized surveillance! Going behind my back, not to mention the DA's. Lisbon, you're damn lucky that this turned out in our favor, or you wouldn't be able to find a job as a traffic cop. And you, Jane, would be relegated to reading palms in the back of some tacky house in South Sacramento. You better hope Ardiles and I can spin this properly, or that still may well happen, to both of you."

"I have complete faith in your gift of bullshit," said Jane, unable to resist pushing the man just one step too far.

Lisbon gasped, closing her eyes tightly against the expected secondary explosion.

"Get the hell out of here! Both of you! Go make the arrangements for Miss Barto's transfer to county lockup, if you can manage to do something on the level for a change!"

Jane and Lisbon didn't have to be told twice; they left the office as quickly as humanly possible, well, at least Lisbon did.

Before Lisbon could heave a sigh of relief, however, Jane pulled her into an empty conference room, shutting the door without turning on the lights. She gave a sound of annoyed surprise before she was pushed against the closed door and promptly ravaged by Patrick Jane's mouth.

**A/N: Hope you liked this! Please sign in and review! And hopefully I'll have a tag after Sunday's new episode. Put me on author alert so you don't miss it! Thanks for reading.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I wanted to get this chapter posted yesterday, but life got in the way and it didn't happen. So, here it is, hopefully helping in some small way to fill in the void until the next new episode. I will get to your reviews from the last chapter very soon (thanks!).**

**By the way, this chapter veers to M at the end, so be warned.**

**Chapter 7**

Jane knew he was sexually enthralled when tag-teaming on Bertram with Lisbon turned him on. It took him back—_way back_—to when he and Danny or sometimes even his dad would successfully con a mark. He'd feel such a rush from pulling one over on someone, that he'd go out and pick up a girl first thing. Quite simply, he'd always gotten off on being the smartest person in the room.

Even when he and Angela had gotten away from the carnie life, whenever he'd landed a big fish to his client list, the sex that night would be amazing. But he'd managed to stifle that part of himself for ten years as part of his self-flagellation, not to mention that feeling that way with no sexual outlet was just too…inconvenient. He still couldn't fully dampen the mental satisfaction he got from outwitting one who deigned to try to pull one over on _him_—that's one reason he'd stayed with the CBI so long. But lately, Lisbon had seemed to instinctively know how to play along with him, like a good shill would, and that, to Jane, was unbearably hot.

And so the tryst in the conference room. At first, Lisbon was overwhelmed by his passion, unable to do much more than let him have his way, pressing her back against the metal blinds on the glass door and plundering her lips with a heady thoroughness. Soon, however, she remembered where they were and pushed him away almost violently. He barely caught himself on the long table in the center of the room.

"Not here," she panted. "Never at work, understand? That's a deal breaker." She reached blindly for the wall and flipped on the light switch. They both blinked at the sudden garish brightness of the fluorescent lights.

He started to reach for her, but forced himself to drop his hands. "Okay. Okay. You're right. Sorry." He smiled, and actually looked at her with uncharacteristic shyness. "It's just…You make me feel randy as a teenager," he said, and they both blushed at his bluntness.

"The feeling's mutual," she admitted. "And this stopping and starting stuff is wearing on me too. Let's try to focus on work then. This—_we_—will be here when this is all settled. We have to figure out a way to help Cherish, remember?"

He took a deep, calming breath, letting it out slowly. _Focus Jane._ His eyes wandered up her body, remembering the feel of her breasts beneath his hands. _Not on her breasts! Sheesh! _He ran his hand through his hair in agitation, and looked determinedly into her eyes.

"Maybe we can get her to a counselor as part of a plea bargain," he suggested distractedly. "The girl is definitely on the road to Perdition."

Lisbon nodded, but it was also difficult for her to think over her racing pulse.

"Yes. We can suggest that. It could be a media friendly solution to get the CBI out of this too."

"Good."

"Fine."

He took a step toward her, but she held up her hands defensively.

"Stay back, you," she said.

He grinned. "I was just going to open the door, Agent Lisbon. I can control myself."

She flushed anew, but stepped aside to allow him to be a gentleman. She dropped her hands and waited. That was her first mistake. Hadn't she learned after all these years, not to mention this very night on that hotel bed, never to trust a conman?

As she passed him, he suddenly grabbed her upper arms, kissing her soundly before moving out the door ahead of her. _Some gentleman_, she thought caustically, but her fingertips rested on her smiling lips as she followed him out into the corridor.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The bail hearing was set for first thing the next morning, so Cherish was made to cool her heels in the CBI basement holding cell. Despite Lisbon's vehement protests, Jane couldn't resist going downstairs to talk with her after the girl's mother and lawyer had left.

"What good will it do? She's just going to yell and scream and generally be the spoiled, depraved girl she is—"

"Maybe I can calm her down, make her see reason."

Cherish had refused to see a counselor as part of any deal.

"I imagine you're the last person in the world she wants to see right now."

Jane shrugged. "Perhaps. But I can be very persuasive." He waggled his eyebrows at her, reminding her how few women could deny Patrick Jane anything once he put his sights on her. She shook her head at him.

"Like I could stop you," she said dismissively. She turned toward her office, leaving him by the elevator.

"Hey," Jane said softly, summoning her nearly against her will. "When this thing is over…"

"I'm not holding my breath," she replied.

"Well, that's the only way I'm managing not to finish what we started in the conference room."

Lisbon looked around, worried someone would overhear him. "Hush," she said. "I'm not sure what the regs are concerning consultant-agent relationships."

Jane cleared his throat. "Regulation 9, Sections 2.3 of the California Code for CBI employees states as follows: 'No agent or special agent from one strike or investigative team may engage in interpersonal, sexual relationships with other agents or special agents from the same team. Agents may develop such relationships with agents of other teams, so long as the two teams do not overlap in their daily operations. Those designated as non-agents (see Section 3.3 for job descriptions) and those employees who do not participate in field operations with agents or special agents are exempted from said regulations.'"

She crossed her arms in front of her during his recitation, her lips quirking in amusement. "You looked this up and memorized it?"

"Yes."

"When?"

Jane looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"When, Jane?"

"Three years ago."

"What?"

"You know, when Rigsby and Grace had their ill-fated romance."

This was true, though, if Jane were to be honest with himself, it had been totally pointless to commit the information to memory. It certainly cluttered up his memory palace unnecessarily. It was that last sentence that had strangely intrigued him, he remembered, though he hadn't wanted to admit to himself at the time exactly why.

Lisbon let him off the hook—for now—and her brow furrowed in thought. "That still doesn't categorically state the parameters of a consultant-agent relationships."

Jane sighed sheepishly. "'Section 3.3 defines _non-agents_ as: clerical support staff, independent investigators, computer/IT professionals, security personnel, independent consultants, _non-independent consultants_, and other non-field civilian employees…'Frankly," he added, "there are a lot of redundancies in the CBI Regulations manual."

She smiled at him. "Good to know."

"Hm," he said, with one of his own brighter-than-the sun grins. He rocked back on his heels, hands in his jacket pockets.

She waved a hand toward the elevator. "Well, now that you've cleared that up, why don't you go on down to your junior dominatrix and see what you can do. I still don't think even you can make a difference."

"Oh, ye of little faith," he said.

"The devil quotes the Bible for his own ends, Jane," she said, raising an eyebrow, but her eyes were shining with humor. She left him then, and Jane's eyes followed her gently swaying hips until she disappeared from view. With a sigh of longing, he pressed the elevator call button.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The basement of the CBI was really creepy at night, Jane thought, especially when everyone had left the building except security, custodians, and, of course, Lisbon.

Jane nodded at Karl, who'd drawn guard duty outside the holding cell doors, and the non-independent consultant walked in to stand outside the little tigress's cage. She was huddled on the spartan cot, and she looked for all the world to have been crying. When she saw who her visitor was she practically growled through the bars.

"Get the hell out of here! Guard!"

Karl peeked in through the window of the door in annoyance. Jane smiled benignly, and the man's bald head disappeared again.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry it all went down this way."

"Fuck you."

Jane tsked censoriously. "Well I'm afraid that's not going to happen. You know, you could get out of this mess without jail time if you agreed to see a therapist."

"There's nothing wrong with me, except asshole men like you who always want something from me."

"I don't want anything from you, Cherish. I just want you to get help before you ruin your life forever."

"Now you sound like my stupid mother. Apparently, I'm a total embarrassment, and now I've ruined _her_ life with my _sick sexual appetites_—her exact words. She's such an ignorant bitch."

"She loves you."

"Ha. She loves her job, and the family fortune. I was always just an inconvenience to her."

"She does love you," Jane persisted. "How could she not? You're beautiful, intelligent, you have natural style…Don't mess up your chance to have a normal life with normal boyfriends who just want normal sex."

"Look at me, Patrick," she said, opening the robe she still wore from the hotel. Beneath it she still had on her black leather underwear. "I'm _not_ normal. Or didn't you figure that out when I took the tails to you?" She smirked seductively, gliding over to the bars of her cell, robe still gaping open for his perusal. He easily held her eyes, immune.

"Part of you liked that, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated solemnly. "I didn't. Do yourself a favor and take the deal, Cherish. Otherwise, that beautiful body of yours will go completely to waste."

"Ardiles said I'd get five years, tops. I'll still be young and beautiful."

"They hadn't added on the charges of drugging me. Or I could also claim sexual battery. Have you ever seen pretty girls after they've been in prison for a decade?" He grimaced dramatically.

"No way. Besides, you acted totally into it, didn't you? You'd be the laughingstock of the CBI if you claimed a girl tied you up and took advantage of you."

He shrugged. "I've never cared what people thought of me. That's one thing we have in common."

"That's blackmail."

"Yes. Nothing I haven't done before. On many occasions."

He wasn't surprised to see her suddenly lapse into tears. Her hands went to her mascara-streaked face, and she sobbed loudly. She appeared to be genuine.

"Who was it that hurt you, Cherish?" he asked softly.

"No one—" she began, her face still in her hands.

"It was your father, wasn't it? Your mother discovered he was molesting you, and rather than cause a scandal with the police, she kicked him out."

He reached his hand between the bars to touch her shoulder, ignoring every rule posted on the outside of the holding cell door.

"So you're a shrink now?"

"No. Just observant."

"I hate that bitch for sending Daddy away," she said, and her voice shook like a little girl's, the tigress long gone. Jane rubbed her arm consolingly.

"She loved you enough to do it. She might not have handled it the right way, but she stopped the abuse."

"Okay…I'll do it," she said, looking up at him with big, watery eyes. "If you promise to come visit me."

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her an unequivocal _no_, but he wanted her to get the help she needed, poor, screwed-up kid.

"Sure. Anything to help."

She moved closer to him, slipping her small arms through the bars to embrace him as best she could. Jane allowed it, patting her back in the usual awkward way he had with victims' families and unwanted female attention.

"Okay. There, there now. You're doing the right thing, you'll see."

"Thank you, Mr. Jane," she said. "And…I'm sorry…for everything."

"Yes, I can tell you are."

He turned and walked to the door, knocking on it so Karl would let him out.

As she watched him leave the holding cell, Cherish Barto wiped her eyes and gave a small smile of triumph.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane got off the elevator on the second floor, and went in search of Lisbon. She'd sent the rest of the team home, but he knew she would still be in her office, filling out paperwork like a dedicated little worker bee. Her door was closed, but the blinds were up, and he could see that she'd fallen asleep on the white couch against the wall.

He grinned. That overstuffed couch was by far the best gift he'd ever given her, and one of the few she had actually kept. He quietly opened the door and walked inside, then took the blue and beige blanket from the back of the couch and unfolded it, laying it gently over her deeply sleeping form. He tried to suppress the disappointment that she wasn't sleeping now because she was sexually sated, but there would be time enough for that. Lisbon was tired, and she deserved her rest, especially to prepare her for what he had in store for her tomorrow night.

He bent down to kiss her forehead, taking a moment to admire her beauty close up. She looked like Sleeping Beauty, or Snow White, or another otherworldly creature too good for this one. It would only be a matter of hours until she was his, he was certain of it. There would be no regrets, either. He would always love Angela, but he loved Teresa too, and he didn't see the point of resisting her anymore. He didn't think he was capable of it, actually, now that he'd had a taste. He'd proven his point to the universe, and though he didn't quite feel he could ever punish himself enough for his part in the death of his family, his ultimate redemption would come when he killed Red John, not by pushing Teresa Lisbon away.

His lips found hers then, touching them softly enough that she didn't stir, but twisting his heart and gut enough to tempt him into wakening her. But he made himself leave her in peace and left before sauntering tiredly to his own couch in the bullpen. There he spent the rest of the night in a restless doze.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane had gone home early that morning to shower and change, then arrived just as Lisbon did, looking fresh as a daisy despite having spent most of the night on the couch. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, and her rosy cheeks at seeing him made up for the faint circles beneath her bright green eyes.

They were both greeted with the news that Cherish managed to get bail, and that her lawyer had begun negotiating with Ardiles for a plea bargain.

"I'm really surprised," said Lisbon to Cho. "given her attitude last night."  
"Jane must have gotten to her," he replied.

"Of course I did," said Jane, entering the bullpen, teacup in hand. "Despite the lack of faith of some who will remain nameless."

Lisbon ignored him.

"Boss, Cherish Barto's mother and attorney are here," said Van Pelt.

Lisbon nodded to Cho. "You and Rigsby go down and bring her up, will ya?" Mrs. Barto and a tall man who wore a suit that had high-class lawyer written all over him.

"Ma'am, she'll be up in a minute," said Lisbon. "Would you like to wait in my office?"

"No, thank you," said Katherine Barto, looking haggard and strained with worry. "I don't think I can sit still. You mind if I stand in the elevator landing?"

"No, of course not. Wherever you're comfortable."

Jane set down his cup and walked after Cherish's mother. Lisbon looked askance at him, but he merely smiled gently and moved past her, fisting his hands so he wouldn't reach out and touch her in passing.

"Mrs. Barto," called Jane. "May I have a word with you?" He looked up at the lawyer, her fairly exuded arrogance, his face set in serious lines. "Without Smiley, here." The lawyer's frown drooped even more.

"It's all right, Jeremy," she said. "Lead the way, Mr. Jane."

They went into the conference room and Jane wondered if he'd made the right choice of space, given his previous experience in the room. He mentally shook it off and turned to Cherish's mother, shutting the door behind them.

"I'm sorry if this is…awkward, given that you heard the recording from last night."

"I'd like to apologize for my daughter," said Katherine, tearing up. "I hope some day she can do it herself."

"That's quite all right, and not what I brought you here for. You see, I spoke with Cherish late last night, got her to come around to the idea that she needs help. I just wanted to reassure you that your family secret is safe with me."

"What secret?"

"You know, about Cherish and your ex-husband."

She tensed. "What about them?"

"I just wanted to say that what you did took a lot of courage. And while I think you should have put that bastard in jail for what he did—"

She looked confused all of a sudden. "In jail? Mr. Jane, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Jane stopped, evaluating her expression, her body language. She really had no idea what he meant.

"Cherish claimed your husband molested her."

"What? Why would she say such a thing? They have a great relationship. We all do. He lives in San Francisco; they see each other twice a month."

"You didn't kick him out and divorce him for hurting her?"

"No. Richard, well, he's gay. I always suspected this, in the back of my mind, but he came out after Cherish was born. Cherish is lying to you, I'm afraid."

"I believe you," said Jane numbly. _That little bitch. _"Who knows why she said that. To get back at you? To get back at me? You make sure she gets that help, Mrs. Barto."

"I—I will. I don't know where I went wrong with her. I tried to do the best I could…"

"I'm sure. I won't trouble you further. Cherish must be upstairs by now."

"Yes. Thank you, Mr. Jane."

He opened the door for her and let her out, while Jane he stayed behind, fuming at both himself for missing her lies, and her, for so easily manipulating him. He must be losing his touch.

He watched through the window of the conference room as Cherish and her mother were reunited. She'd have to sign some paperwork, and that would be that. She'd make that deal with Ardiles, and hopefully he'd never have to see her lying, simpering face again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hey," said Lisbon later, as she stood before his couch. "You okay?"

He'd been staring into space for hours, turning around in his mind all the signs he must have missed with Cherish. The main way people got away with lying to Jane was if they actually believed their own lies. Cherish was a sociopath, a sexual deviant, a conwoman. What was worse, she was likely getting to the point where she didn't know where her fantasy world ended and the truth began.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Did Cherish take the deal?"

"Yes. Jimmy Roberts agreed to drop the charges if she submitted to a ninety-day commitment to a mental health facility, after which, her state of mind will be re-evaluated. And since you're not pressing any either, Ardiles agreed as well. She goes in tomorrow."

Jane nodded, relieved. "Good." He looked up at her and suddenly smiled. They were alone in the bullpen—everyone had gone for lunch—so now he could ask her what he'd wanted to since the night before.

"Tell me, Agent Lisbon, would you like to go out with me tonight? Dinner, dancing, or maybe the theatre?"

"No," she responded.

His face fell. "Why not?"

She sat down beside him on the couch, then leaned slowly toward his ear.

"Come over to my place later," she whispered. "I'm in the mood to dine in."

Jane was glad he was sitting down. He swallowed.

"Okay."

"Eight o'clock," she said, rising again, her heart pounding at her temerity.

"Seven," he countered.

She smiled. "Deal." She stuck out her hand, but instead of shaking it, he brought her palm to his lips.

"Deal," he repeated, looking up at her with dark eyes.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon left work promptly at five o'clock. Jane was nowhere to be seen, so he must have left sometime earlier. She swung by the supermarket to pick up a couple of lamb chops and the makings of a salad. In her apartment, she changed the sheets, then took a shower and shaved and sloughed from head to toe, wishing she had time to straighten her hair. She emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, her hair slicked back, already forming its natural waves as it dried. She glanced at the digital clock in her bedroom. It was only six; still an hour to style her hair, put on her sexiest underwear, and make her eyes look smoky and sexy.

The doorbell rang. She stood still a moment, still in her towel. If that was him, she was absolutely going to kill him. Grabbing her robe, she pulled it on as she walked to the door. She saw Jane through the peephole, dressed casually in khaki slacks and a light blue polo shirt beneath a dark blue sport coat. He was breathlessly handsome, which made her even more annoyed with him.

"You're early," she said through the door. "Go away."

He laughed and held up the bottle of wine to the peephole. It was her favorite cabernet.

"Come on, Lisbon. I'm sure you look fine."

"We had a deal, Jane. I'm not even dressed yet."

"Even better," he said, grinning wickedly.

Resigned to loving a man who was totally unpredictable, she opened the door and stood before him, tapping her foot in irritation.

His grin faded as he beheld her lack of attire, her porcelain skin free of makeup, her cheeks rosy from a hot shower and, he knew without arrogance, from his very presence. She was more beautiful than he'd ever seen her.

He could smell her floral shampoo and the vanilla bath wash she'd used, and her rich scents completely beguiled him.

"I couldn't wait," he managed.

In truth, since she'd invited him earlier, he'd felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. She stood aside to let him come in, none too happy to have her plans foiled, but he didn't walk past her; he walked straight toward her, setting the wine carefully on the foyer table before taking her into his arms.

He kissed her moist lips, kicking the door shut behind them as his hands went for the belt of her robe. He was delighted to discover she was naked beneath, and he slipped his hands eagerly inside to cup and caress.

"Jane," she rasped between his drugging kisses, overwhelmed by the suddenness of his sensual assault. "What…are you doing?"

"Making you mine," he said simply.

Things became a blur from there. His clothes seemed to disappear beneath both their hands, and her robe joined them in a haphazard trail leading to the bedroom. He had never been to her room before, but somehow he found it unerringly, pushing her along through the foyer, the living room, the hall, his mouth never seeming to leave hers, his hands roaming up and down her naked body with uninhibited delight. At the edge of her queen size sleigh bed, he dropped to his knees before her. She visibly trembled as he kissed her stomach, his hands smoothing over her trim waist and buttocks while hers rested in his hair.

She sat on the bed, and suddenly his mouth moved lower, to the apex of her thighs. She gasped as first he kissed her there, then, parting her with dexterous fingers, his tongue slipped out to taste. She bent her knees and fell back upon the bed, making inarticulate sounds of ecstasy as he learned by heart the most intimate part of her. He instinctively knew when to move his mouth and tongue faster, when to tease, when to employ his deft fingers, when to increase the pressure until she was screaming his name in release.

"Oh,Teresa," he said, blowing a whisper of air across her trembling flesh. "You taste as sweet as I'd imagined."

She was shaking all over, spasms of fulfillment still radiating from the very core of her, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. But he wasn't finished with her, not by a long shot. She felt the bed give way as he climbed up beside her, and then that talented mouth was on her breast.

"Oh…God…Jane…"

She felt her passion rising once more as he worshiped her body anew with his mouth, and she held him to her, her pulse thundering loudly in her brain. He left the heaven of her breasts to find her lips again, at the same time dipping his hips slightly to join himself with her body. She cried out against his mouth, and he buried his face in her damp neck, his movements stilling as she adjusted herself around him, and he struggled desperately for control. His breathing was labored and harsh, and she could feel the perspiration forming where skin met skin.

"Jane?" she said when she could bear his stillness no longer. He moved his head up to look at her, smiling at how worked up she was. Because of him.

"What do you want, Teresa?"

"I can't believe you," she panted. "Do you want me to beg?"

He withdrew from her, hovering around her opening before plunging back inside. She moaned.

"Yes," he said.

She put her hands on either side of his face. "Please…move…"

He grinned. "Since you asked so nicely…"

And then he began to move. It was unlike any sexual experience she had ever known. They established a rhythm almost immediately, each stroke of his answered smoothly with her undulating hips, slow, deep, and achingly pleasurable. He became lost in her, in the feel of her beneath him, in her scent, in her heat. The words he'd said to her once before came to his lips, and this time, he knew he wouldn't take them back.

"I love you," he whispered, and then the world slipped away…

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please log in and review, if you liked what you read.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Your response to this story continues to amaze me, and, I must admit, overwhelm me. Much as I hate to do it, I know my limitations, and I know I won't have the time to respond personally to the last round of reviews. I'm hoping you'd rather I write than reply. But thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love and support you've shown me. I'm hoping things will become less busy in my life so that I can take the time to reply in the near future.

The first half of this chapter was written when I was snowed in, and I admit it is likely fluffier because of it. It's so romantic to be snug in your home with a fire and hot chocolate while the world outside is cold and beautiful. This chapter is also a little on the M side, though not overly so. I hope you don't mind…

**Chapter 8**

The second time Jane made love to Lisbon, he let her take control. Or, rather, she wrested it from him, and he was the one begging as her slim body moved above his, going purposefully and seductively slowly. He looked up into her lovely face, her hair curling wildly around her, untamed in a way he had never seen but would be permanently etched into his brain, in the pleasure dome part of his memory palace. Her slight smile of mischief and passion glinted in the light from the hall, and he reached up to take a lock of her hair between his fingers. She dropped forward upon his chest, and he moaned at the change in sensation. Her control issues at work could be exasperating, but they had definite advantages in the bedroom.

His hands went to her waist, guiding her movements for as long as she would allow, until they were both trembling close to the edge. She kissed him then with such sweet abandon that his arms went round her delicately define back, holding her closely while, with a shuddering gasp, they found their release as one.

She settled bonelessly against his heaving chest, her lips in the damp, hot crook of his neck.

"That's never happened to me before," she said in wonder, when she could speak at all.

"Actually, if I'm not mistaken, it happened not three hours ago…"

He felt her frown, and chuckled, his body humming with a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration.

"You know what I mean."

She propped herself up to look at him, his eyes glinting at her in the dimness.

"It is rare, in my experience," he said tenderly. "to be so…simpatico with someone. It just confirms to me how right this is. How connected I feel to you, have always felt to you…"

"Yes," she whispered. She kissed his full lips lightly, her hands smoothing back his damp hair. Her heart jumped when she remembered what he had said to her earlier, before sleep had briefly claimed them. She'd awakened to his arousing hands sliding over her body, and she'd rolled him onto his back before she could confront him about what he'd said in the throes of passion.

"Jane," she said now, her eyes shyly downcast. "What you said before…"

"When I was crying out your name or telling you I love you?" He smiled a little wryly.

She looked up, surprised that he wasn't denying it. "I wasn't imagining it then?"

"No. Just as you weren't before I shot you. I'm sorry I tried to take it back, but frankly, the first time it just spilled out of my mouth it scared the hell out of me. But it was true then as it is now-even more so. I love you, Teresa, and I'm not afraid to admit it. Unless, of course, you don't feel the same way."

She stared at him a moment, her face in shadow, and he felt his body tense beside her, despite what he knew to be true in his heart.

"It would serve you right if I didn't," she said when she thought he'd suffered enough.

"But you do…right?"

"Well, well, well…Patrick Jane unsure…"she teased. "Mentalist skills slipping?"

He grinned at her, one hand reaching out to rest between her breasts. "Remember I told you about certain…_methods_ I have of obtaining information?"

Her heartbeat accelerated. "You said these methods were secret."

"I'd be happy to share them with you, unless, of course, you have something you'd like to say."

She was tempted to let him, but the words were welling up in her throat, and he didn't need to torture them out of her.

"I love you," she said. "But then you already knew that, of course."

"Yeah, but you don't know how good it is to hear you say it."

"I think I do," she said, and she found his lips again, luxuriating in the heady feeling of knowing_, really_ knowing, that their love wasn't imagined, or unrequited, or merely friendship in disguise.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They were well on their way to round three, when Jane's growling stomach intervened. She laughed breathlessly, and the mood, while not shattered, was put on hold.

"You promised me dinner, and besides, I need sustenance woman, if I'm going to live up to all those high expectations you've always had of me."

"What?" she said, flicking on the bedside lamp so they could find their clothes.

"You've looked at me over the years, wondering what kind of lover I was. Wondering if I would really know how to anticipate your every desire."

She paused to watch the amazing sight of a naked Patrick Jane bending over to pick up his underwear. When he'd pulled them on, he turned to her, a knowing grin splitting his handsome face.

"Your ego knows no bounds, does it?"

She went to her drawer to pull out a nightshirt, which she slipped on over her head. She gasped in surprise to find him standing in front of her.

"I'll take that as a yes."

She closed the short distance between them, her hands going up to interlace behind his neck.

"And it's not like you haven't imagined me writhing on top of you, naked, right? Maybe on some of those days you were pretending to be asleep on your couch…?"

"Nope," he lied. "I've only ever thought of you with the deepest respect and utmost courtesy, Agent Lisbon. Now, go make me a sandwich."

She rubbed against him, pleased to see his jaw clenching in an effort to control himself.

"Bull…butter."

"Well, maybe a little," he admitted, "on those days you wore those black jeans of yours. You know, the ones with the little zig-zag running across the pockets…"

She laughed. "You're kidding me?" His hands went down to her waist, pulling up the short nightshirt so he could caress her tight behind, and pull her closer to his body.

"Not a bit. You made it very _hard_…to resist you."

They smiled as they kissed, and it was some time before he actually got his dinner.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane was put on salad detail, and Lisbon seasoned the lamb chops and put them under the broiler.

"You got a suitable knife for these tomatoes?" he asked from the small center island, where he'd left the newly washed vegetables.

"Sure." She reached for the wooden block where her knives were stored. One of the slots was empty.

"Hmph." She went to the dishwasher, then looked through a few drawers, then around the sides of the block in case it had fallen there.

"What is it?" asked Jane.

"A knife is missing."

"When was the last time you used it?"

"It's been awhile since I actually cooked something," she said sheepishly.

He went to stand behind her, reaching around her for a different knife. He moved her hair from her neck and kissed the back of it, then took his new knife and began on the salad.

"How do you like your chops?" she asked peeking into the oven.

For some reason, a vision of Cherish's rare steak flashed in his mind. He flinched internally. He would never be able to stomach rare meat again.

"Well-done," he said dryly.

When the lamb chops were broiled to perfection they sat across from each other in her small breakfast nook, eating their dinner while their bare feet touched beneath the table.

"Delicious," he said.

"I'm famished. It must be ten o'clock. Talk about your late suppers."

"And there's work tomorrow."

"Thanks for reminding me," she said with a sigh.

"If you allow me to stay, I promise to actually let you get some sleep," he told her. The last thing he wanted was to go home to his dreary motel room, when here was Lisbon, warm and safe and his.

"So you're inviting yourself?"

"Yes."

She smiled, and blushed a little, even after all they'd done together. "Okay," she said softly. And it was settled.

They finished their dinner and half the bottle of Jane's cabernet, and when Lisbon went to lock the front door, she paused when she noticed it was unlocked.

"Lucky I have a gun," Lisbon commented, as he finished loading the dishwasher.

"Hmm?"

"We forgot to lock the door in our uh…haste."

"Oops," said Jane, clearly unapologetic, smiling at the memory of how their evening had begun. "Pausing to lock the deadbolt would have put a damper on the mood, don't you think? And no way was I going to ruin my best entrance ever thinking about home security."

She rolled her eyes at him, but she was secretly glad things had worked out exactly as they had. She shut and locked the door now, drawing the chain and turning the dead bolt. You couldn't be too careful, even as a cop, in a city like Sacramento.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

True to his word, Jane let Lisbon sleep through the night. The morning, however, was another thing altogether. When the alarm went off, Lisbon awoke to find a man in her bed for the first time in…well, she really couldn't remember when. Jane made a noise of protest at the earliness of the wakeup call, and she laughed in pure joy. Who would have thought Patrick Jane was grumpy in the morning.

He was on his stomach, his face buried in her pillow, and she kissed him on the bare shoulder, but then his blond bed head caught her attention. Her fingers dug in, relishing the baby softness of his curls, massaging his scalp lightly with her nails. He made a noise similar to a purr, and she chuckled and kissed his other shoulder. But like a cat, she felt him tense in readiness to spring upon her, so she hastily got out of bed to escape to the shower. Naturally, Jane had similar ideas.

"What are you doing?" she asked as he slid open the steamy shower door. He kissed her beneath the hot spray. "You're going to make us late," she complained, but Jane knew she wasn't really too annoyed with him, especially when he squeezed some body wash into his hands and proceeded to work both of them into a lather.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the time they got out the door, they were definitely going to be late for work, but neither of them, least of all Jane, really cared. They held hands on the way to the parking lot, their smiles brighter than the morning sun. Halfway there, Jane pulled her into his arms to kiss her, speculating that this might be the last kiss she would allow him until after work.

"I love you," he said to her, his forehead resting on hers, their hands clasped tightly. "And I can't promise I won't be thinking about this all day."

"But you promised no unprofessional behavior at work," she said, although her swift breaths showed it would be just as difficult for her to resist him.

"When am I _ever _professional, Lisbon? I will promise not to compromise you at work, but the minute the proverbial whistle blows, all bets are off."

She kissed him once more, missing this already, dreading the torture of her own high workplace standards. She squeezed his hand and they turned reluctantly back toward the parking lot. A few more feet down the paved path, and both of them stopped in horror.

Jane had parked his Citroen right beside her Mustang, and while two cars couldn't be more different, this morning, they shared much in common. Across Lisbon's rear windshield, the word _Bitch_ was emblazoned in white shoe polish. Jane's car was labeled _Bastard._

"You gotta admire the alliteration, although the words themselves aren't that original," said Jane.

They looked at each other, then sped up their short trek, only to find that things were much worse than first appearances. All four tires on each car were flat to the ground, and both vehicles had been brutally keyed down each side. On closer inspection, Lisbon determined that the damage was even more extensive, that the weapon used had made scratches much deeper than your ordinary car key. Jane walked around his own car, inspecting the injuries to his beloved Citroen. It was then that he found the kitchen knife, its wooden hilt disturbingly familiar.

"I found your missing knife," he said. He pointed to where it was embedded in the front driver's side tire of his car.

Lisbon's eyes grew round at the significance of his find.

"Someone was in my apartment," she said.

"Cherish, of course," said Jane. "She must have followed me here last night."

"She was in my apartment me when we were—holy shit!"

Jane felt like he should have seen this coming, and he concurred with her expletive whole-heartedly. Cherish was even more depraved than he'd originally thought.

Lisbon actually jumped when her cell phone rang in her pocket. It was Van Pelt.

"Boss, Cherish Barto was supposed to check into the mental health facility this morning. She's gone missing."

"Not a surprise. Tell Cho to get over to my apartment complex. We're gonna need a ride."

"We?" asked Van Pelt speculatively.

Well, so much for their secret. She shook her head at Jane and sighed into the phone.

"Jane and I," she confessed. Her eyebrows knit and she brought her free hand to pinch the top of her nose. She suddenly felt a headache coming on.

There was brief, shocked silence on the other end of the line, then Van Pelt's voice held a distinct tone of amusement.

"I'll tell him. Something wrong with your cars?"

"Someone got into my apartment last night, stole a kitchen knife, slashed and carved up mine and Jane's cars with it."

Van Pelt gasped. "You think it's Cherish?"

"Yeah. She's developed a sick attachment to Jane." Lisbon left it for Van Pelt to read between the lines. "You and Rigsby track down Cherish—visit her friends, relatives—I don't care what you do, just get that little—" She ground her teeth together, trying to get a handle on her rage. "Get that _girl._"

"We're on it, Boss."

"Guess the cat's out of the bag," said Jane. "Are you okay with that?"

"There's no help for it. Anyway, that's the least of our worries. Why the hell would Cherish do this? You made it clear to her you weren't interested, right?"

"What do you take me for, Lisbon?"

She looked heavenward.

"Look, I'm ashamed to say she pulled one over on me," said Jane. "The conman was conned, but good. She had me convinced she'd been molested by her own father, that she was acting out because of that. Now I know she's quite simply what I thought she was to begin with—a sociopath. She's stepped over a line now, obviously."

"You think she'll do something like this again?"

Jane looked at her seriously. "Yes. We tricked her, got her to confess. Now she know for sure I was leading her on sexually. She's not going to stop until she feels she's gotten even."

He reached for her hand. "I don't want you to be by yourself until we've caught her."

"I'll be fine, Jane. I'm a cop, remember?"

"And yet, she got into your home without you knowing it."

"Seems to me, if I had been alone, that probably wouldn't have happened," she accused, although her smile let him know she wasn't really angry. "I would have had my wits about me and locked the damn door."

"I'm serious. This isn't just me selfishly wanting to be with you."

She couldn't help feeling a little pleased at his protectiveness, though of course, she could take care of herself.

"What makes you think it's me she's after?"

"Your car is in just as bad a shape as mine. She must have been watching you, too, Teresa. How else would she know which car was yours?"

Now that was a chilling thought.

"And," he said, putting his hand upon her cheek. "She could have killed both of us in your bed."

"But she didn't."

"Not this time."

Cho pulled into the apartment complex parking lot in a black CBI SUV, followed immediately by the CSU van sent to process what was now officially a crime scene. Cho got out and walked over to his coworkers, evaluating the state of their cars with an objective eye. Lisbon went over to talk to the lead investigator.

"Nice," Cho said to Jane, nodding to the uncomplimentary words on the rear windshields.

"Yeah. We're thinking about monogramming our towels like that," said Jane with equal dryness.

Cho's lips quirked.

"She's even sicker than I thought." Jane assumed he meant Cherish.

"No argument there."

"Just making sure they dusted my apartment too," Lisbon was saying as she returned to stand by Jane and Cho.

There was an awkward silence. Lisbon knew how obvious this whole thing was, how Cho must have figured out how preoccupied she and Jane would have been to have missed Cherish's nighttime visit.

"So," said Cho, still looking at the vandalized vehicles. "It is okay if I call you _bastard_?"

"Ha," replied Jane in amusement. "I'm sure it wouldn't be the first time."

"Just don't call me, _bitch_," warned Lisbon.

Jane and Cho looked at each other in complete understanding. That was a given.

**A/N: Here comes the darkness I warned you about from the beginning. I admit I got a little sidetracked with the fun aspects of the situation, but I hope now I've made the stakes seem higher because of it. **

**More very soon! Thanks for reading, and I hope you'll bless me with a review.**


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thanks again for the lovely reviews! You're probably tired of hearing my apologies for not replying, but here they are again. Work continues to be hectic and I'm lucky to fit in a little writing, let alone taking the time to reply to your amazing reviews. A special thanks to my Twitter friends for helping me get over the writer's block hump this week. You girls are great!

This chapter isn't as lighthearted as the others, as promised, though I guess you wouldn't say dark just yet. Certainly more serious. I'll quit typing and let you decide…

**Chapter 9**

Jane brought his morning tea (much later than he'd liked) into the bullpen, taking his usual spot on his brown leather couch. The rest of the team, including Lisbon, were out with Sac PD searching for Cherish, and Jane was grateful for this time alone to think in the unusual quiet of the Serious Crimes Unit offices.

First and foremost on his mind was not the thousands of dollars he'd have to pay to repair and repaint the Citroen, but the night and morning he'd spent in Lisbon's arms. His heart clenched and his groin tightened just thinking about it. It felt like he was drowning in physical and emotional reaction, and Jane knew whereof he spoke in that regard, so that, he found, was an apt description.

Physically, he was momentarily sated, yet still wanted more of her. Emotionally, he was the happiest with a woman he had been since the first days of his marriage, and that in itself was reason enough to feel overwhelmed, because with Angela, those days had been golden and perfect. As they'd settled into married life, he had found himself to be content, still in love with his wife, but definitely out of the honeymoon stage, definitely married. It was only when Charlotte had been born that a new energy had run through him, and he'd found a different kind of love to brighten his days. With the loss of both of them at once, his need for vengeance had pushed into every corner of his mind, occupying the places where love had once dwelled. Until now.

Jane wished that he could love Lisbon completely, that he could obliterate his desire for Red John's blood with his desire for her. He knew he loved her as much as he possibly could with the murderer still on this earth. He only hoped that would be enough for her.

When his cell phone vibrated, he reached into his inside jacket pocket. He didn't recognize the number displayed on the screen, but something made him answer it anyway.

"Hello, Patrick," said Cherish. "Did you miss me?"

Jane looked around the empty bullpen, wishing like hell Van Pelt were there to help him trace the call. He hadn't exactly been expecting to hear from her, but he supposed in hindsight that he should have.

"Cherish. Glad you called. Many of us are missing you right now. Where are you?"

She chuckled softly. "Nice try. Did you get my present?"

Jane's mouth tightened into a firm line, but he tried to sound pleasant. "Agent Lisbon and I both did. Can't say we liked it much. Why would you do such a thing?"

"Karma's a bitch, isn't it? And so is your Agent Lisbon."

"She had nothing to do with what happened between you and me, Cherish. She was just doing her job."

At that moment, there was a beeping in Jane's ear that only he could hear; someone was trying to call him. He stayed focused on Cherish's words.

"Yeah, right. Doing her _employee,_ more like. Very unprofessional of her. But you know what pisses me off the most, Patrick? I Googled you, and guess what? I didn't know I was flogging a celebrity. So sorry to hear about your poor dead wife and child. Very sad." But she didn't sound sympathetic.

"To be fair," Jane replied, ignoring her jibe. "I'm just as entitled to be pissed off with you. You lied about your father abusing you. You lied about being raped and kidnapped. I just let you believe a few things about me…in order to catch you. I gotta say though, kid, you're one of the most formidable con women I've come up against in awhile."

"A real compliment, now that I know who you really are."

"What can I do for you, Cherish?"

"You want me? Come and get me."

"Where? Name the time and place."

She gave him an address which he committed to memory.

"Oh, and by the way, Patrick. Don't bother calling Agent Lisbon…she's with me."

Jane practically jumped to his feet, spilling a bit of tea on his pant leg. He didn't even feel it.

"What?"

"You heard me. And if any other cops show up, you won't recognize her when I'm finished unpacking my bag of tricks."

Jane's blood went cold, but his pulse still beat like a drum in his ears.

"Cherish, what are you doing? There's no need to involve Lisbon in this. Let her go and I'll do whatever you want, I swear."

She laughed. "How sweet. Just get over here, and we'll figure something out. Something tells me she might even be convinced to have a threesome…"

"Let me talk to her first, prove that she's okay, or all bets are off."

"Uh, no…she's sort of tied up right now, if you know what I mean. You'll just have to trust me. Time's a-wasting, handsome. You have thirty minutes."

The call ended.

Jane stared at the phone for one precious minute, momentarily frozen by the possibility of Lisbon being in peril. He noticed then the missed call he'd received while talking to Cherish—it had been Lisbon. He speed dialed her number, but there was no answer; it rang and went to voicemail.

"Lisbon," he said, leaving a message. "Please call me back. Cherish said she has you. Please call and tell me she doesn't."

He ended his message, then dialed Cho.

"Where's Lisbon?" he asked succinctly.

"Gone to meet you, she said. Told us you'd called."

"Well, I didn't, not until a minute ago. She's not picking up. Cherish just called me."

"Did you find out where she is?" Cho asked.

"Well, she gave me an address. She says she has Lisbon there. How long ago did Lisbon leave?"

"About an hour ago," Cho told him. "Tell me the address. We'll meet you there."

"No. Cherish said no cops or she'll hurt her."

"You think she'd kill her?"

"I don't think so, but I'm still going alone."

"Don't be an idiot. Obviously, this could be a trap. Tell me the address."

"Sorry, Cho. I'll be in touch."

He shut his phone decisively, and spent valuable moments trying to think things through. He really didn't believe Cherish was a murderer—she was more interested in mind games and getting her way. She could have killed him and Lisbon in bed with that knife she'd stolen last night, but she hadn't. Instead, she'd resorted to juvenile delinquent methods of intimidation. Not really the calling card of a killer, as he well knew.

He focused in on the phone in his hand. Cho was probably having Van Pelt track his phone already, and would be right behind him on the way to where Cherish was keeping Lisbon, and if Cherish were as smart as he suspected, she would have destroyed Lisbon's phone first thing. Jane had complete confidence that he could talk his way out of this situation, that he could agree to what Cherish wanted and she'd let Lisbon go free, without anyone getting hurt. For that to happen without interference, he would have to leave his phone behind. It was a scary thought, to go in without a lifeline, but he couldn't think of another viable option. Well, except one.

His mind made up, Jane suddenly sprinted out of the bullpen to the stairs leading up to his attic retreat. He unlocked his recently installed padlock and slid the heavy door aside, walking past his Red John suspect map, past his cot, to the southwest corner of the room. He moved aside an old, dusty filing cabinet, put to storage years before, and found the edge of the correct floorboard. Tucked in the space between the floor of the attic and the ceiling of the room below was Jane's hiding place. Not exactly an original location, but there were precious few options if he wanted to store anything important here at the CBI.

He removed the gun box that an aggrieved father had given him a few years ago. It contained the same weapon he'd used to shoot Timothy Carter. He opened the lid and picked up the cold handgun, a rush of memories threatening to weaken his resolve. He'd been so certain before…He shook his head. Now was not the time to think of that.

Once he took the gun out of the building, he wouldn't be able to bring it back through security, unless he hid it on Rigsby or something. It had come into the building with Cho, who had retrieved it from Sac PD for him after he'd been released from jail. Jane expertly loaded the weapon and slipped it into his waistband at his back, hidden beneath his suit coat. He didn't like guns much, but he'd learned long ago how to use one.

As prepared as he could be under the circumstances, Jane tossed his phone on the desk by the window and headed for the lobby. The moment he exited the stairwell, however, it would seem that Cho had outsmarted him.

"Going somewhere, Jane?" asked Agent Ron (Jane had never bothered to learn the man's last name).

His colleague, Karl, intimidating as a linebacker, came up behind Jane, grabbing his upper arms in a vice-like grip.

"Hey, guys," said Jane nonchalantly to their best team support agents. "Just going for a walk. What's up?"

Karl steered Jane toward the elevator. "Cho called and strongly suggested that you not leave."

"Did he tell you where I'm going? That Agent Lisbon has been abducted, and I'm the only one who knows where she is?"

"No," said Ron, pressing the _down_ button. "We're just following orders."

"That didn't work for the Nazis," said Jane angrily. He knew it was pointless to struggle against the bigger, much stronger men. He could talk his way out of most anything, but when it came to physically fighting someone, he knew he was no match for anyone.

Inside the elevator, Jane forced a charming smile upon his face. "Hey, I'd be willing to return that money I won from you guys last week in Blackjack, plus a little extra for your trouble."

Karl and Ron looked at each other a moment, tempted. They'd each lost about fifty bucks.

"Seeing you in the holding cell will be repayment enough," said Ron.

Jane could feel himself panicking. "Look, Cherish Barto has Lisbon. She told me to be there in thirty minutes or she'd hurt her. That was ten minutes ago. If something happens to her because of this, I swear…"

"Tell us the address and I'll call Cho," said Karl.

"Let me go and I'll lead you to her," he countered. "But I've got to go. Cherish said no cops or she'd kill her."

Karl's only answer was a tightening of his grip. There was only one thing Jane could do, something he might pay dearly for later, but the circumstances left him no choice. He still had the gun. They had to let go of him sometime, especially to put him inside the holding cell, and when they did, no doubt he'd take them completely by surprise. He'd lock them in the cell and be on his way to Lisbon.

Ron and Karl escorted him silently to the holding cell where Cherish had recently spent her own time. Before they could put him inside, they paused outside the cage, Karl still holding him tightly. Determinedly, Ron began to frisk him. Jane felt himself physically and mentally deflating.

_Dammit!_

"Cho said to search you for anything you could possibly use to break out of here."

Of course, it took no time at all for Ron to find his gun.

"Jesus, Jane," said Ron, balancing the costly weapon in his hand. "You meant business."

"Doesn't that tell you anything," he said through gritted teeth.

Ron finished his search, emptying Jane's pockets of wallet, change, keys, and lock picks.

Karl shook his head in amusement while Ron pushed open the cell door, and for the umpteenth time in his life, Jane found himself behind bars. Karl shut the outer door, and he could see the back of the man's bald pate as he stood guard right outside. Jane began to pace like a lion in a cage, his finger tapping his lower lip nervously, thoughts swirling in his head of what Cherish might at that moment be doing to Lisbon. Cherish would have to have a helper, some lackey she'd picked up who called her Mistress and would do anything she asked. Lisbon might not put up a fight, if she thought Jane was in danger too. Cherish had hinted that she'd tied Lisbon up, no doubt in a place filled with all kinds of horrifying instruments of sexual torture. If he didn't get to her in time…

He looked around his cell; there was no getting out of this, not in time to save her anyway.

_What the hell am I doing? _

"Okay," he called, the desperation welling up inside of him, making his voice crack with fear. "Call Cho!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thirty minutes later—some of the most terrifying minutes since he'd found his mutilated family—Ron came back, cell phone in hand, Karl watching all from the doorway. Ron stuck the phone through the bars.

"It's Cho."

"Did you find her? Is she all right?" Jane said into the phone.

"No."

"No, she's not all right, or no you didn't find her?" He ground out his words in exasperation.

"She wasn't there," Cho said. "The girl was though, along with some older guy dressed like a gladiator, but no Lisbon. The house has a room with stuff I've never even heard of before."

"Well, why the hell aren't you interrogating her?"

"She says she won't talk to anyone but you."

Jane restrained himself from screaming _I told you so!_

"Well, tell your goons to get me the hell out of here!"

"Hey," said the two goons in unison.

Jane thrust the phone back to Ron, who, after a couple of "Okay's" and "Will do's," fished the keys from his pocket.

The moment the door was open, Jane hurled himself out of the holding cell and bolted for the door, brushing past his former captors.

"By the way," he called from the doorway to the stairwell. "I cheated you at Blackjack. And also, Ron, your girlfriend is cheating on you. With Karl."

He didn't stay to watch the fallout.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The address that Cherish had given him was in a middle class neighborhood. He'd driven like a madman (even more so than usual) through the streets of Sacramento until he found the older split-level home, probably built sometime in the seventies. He recognized the CBI SUV and a SacPD patrol car parked in the driveway, a couple of officers milling around outside. The car had a gladiator in the back seat. Jane would have smiled if he hadn't been so wound up. A canine unit van was parked on the curb, and Jane caught a glimpse of two more officers, each with German shepherds at leash, patrolling around the outside of the house.

Rigsby came out of the house to meet him.

"Any news?" Jane asked.

"No. Cho's got Cherish handcuffed to a chair in the dining room, but I'm not sure even he can crack her. Good you're here."

Jane frowned but didn't comment on how he was the only one who _should _have been there.

"Any luck tracking Lisbon's phone?"

"No. Can't even get a bead on the GPS in the company SUV. Only thing Van Pelt can think of is she's somewhere without service."

Jane felt the icy hand of fear squeezing his heart.

They entered the dark foyer of the house and Rigsby led the way to the dining room. Jane blanched to see Cherish, clad in her black leather dominatrix outfit, someone's coat—likely Van Pelt's—thrown over her shoulders in a semblance of modesty. He nodded at the redhead, who was sitting on a barstool in the kitchen, her laptop before her on the bar.

"Patrick!" said Cherish, cheering up considerably upon seeing him. He went to her chair and squatted down before her, looking up into eyes thickly lined with charcoal makeup.

"Where the hell is Lisbon?" he asked softly, though anyone who really knew him would sense the danger behind his tone.

"I don't have her. I've never had her, like I told your hottie Korean co-worker, Mr. Cho."

"Yeah, but you must have sent her on a wild goose chase. Where?"

She grinned. "I'm not telling."

Jane stared at Cherish, tempted to threaten her with bodily harm if she didn't confess, tempted to hypnotize her on the spot.

He stood abruptly and went over to Cho. "Let me talk to her alone."

Cho regarded the consultant, measuring his determination. He knew if the woman he was in love with were missing, he'd do whatever it took to find out where she was. Cho nodded, then went over to the girl and unlocked the two pairs of cuffs that bound her to the chair. She stood, rubbing her wrists, then took the coat off her shoulders and presented her scantily clad body for all to see, but especially for Jane's benefit.

"Use that room," said Cho, inclining his head toward the first room down the short hallway. Van Pelt was about to protest, but Cho shot her a look, and Jane grabbed Cherish's hand to pull her down the hall. He turned on the light, his eyes widening at the whips, chains, paddles, and other items used in very rough sex hanging on the walls. A metal topped gurney lay in the center of the room, along with a trapeze-like contraption hanging from the ceiling. There was even a cross-like rack, and Jane shuddered to think what occurred there. He shut the door and locked it, then turned to Cherish, who had been watching him survey their surroundings with an amused quirk to her lips.

"Where do you want me for your…interrogation, Master Jane?"

Jane's expression hardened. "Sit on the table," he ordered. And then he went to the wall, withdrawing a likely looking paddle, the flat surface bored through with several holes. He slapped the palm of his hand experimentally. That would leave quite a mark on sensitive skin.

"Now, my little dominatrix, tell me where Agent Lisbon is."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane was inside the room for about twenty minutes, and Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt had cleared the house of other officers, they alone left to hear the occasional sounds of grunts, alarming slaps and the occasional sharp crack of a whip.

"What do you think he's doing to her?" whispered Rigsby.

"Whatever it takes," said Cho.

"You think he's hurting her?" asked Van Pelt. She hated what Cherish had done, but she was still just a young girl.

A high-pitched, clearly orgasmic feminine cry ripped through the house, making them all jump.

"No," said Cho, swallowing hard.

"Nothing she doesn't like, I expect," said Rigsby, having gone from pale to flushed with embarrassment. He avoided Van Pelt's eyes.

Jane suddenly came out of the door, looking calm now, and supremely satisfied that he'd gotten what he wanted. He hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Well?" asked Rigsby.

"Lisbon's in the mountains. There's no phone reception out there. Cherish told me exactly where she was. I'll explain on the way."

"Good," said Cho. "Let's go."

As the team gathered their things together, Cho called one of the cops outside to retrieve Cherish and take her directly to the Sacramento County Center for Mental Health. The day wasn't over yet, and Cherish still had time to make it to the psych ward without being in violation of a court order.

Once they found Lisbon unharmed, there would be plenty of time to decide if there would be further charges brought against her.

"She'll be asleep for a while yet," said Jane to the officer. "You'll have to carry her to the car."

The cop looked startled, but Jane didn't offer any further elaboration.

"What do we do with Maximus out there?" the officer asked, pointing toward where their second prisoner waited in the car.

"Keep him for questioning," said Cho. "We still might need him, although I think he knows nothing."

The team, minus their faithful leader, went out to the SUV and climbed inside, Cho at the wheel, Jane riding shotgun.

As they made their way to the freeway, Van Pelt broke the tense silence, and finally asked what was on everyone's mind.

"How'd you get her to confess?" she asked Jane.

Jane glanced up at the mirror on the visor to see Van Pelt's wary expression. She was surprised to see him blush slightly.

"I hypnotized her. Planted the suggestion in her mind, emphasized by the sounds of her uh…toys…that she and I were…well, engaged in a sexual liaison. When she was in a vulnerable state, she supplied the information. She was very resistant before that."

"It sounds like she…well, you know…" said Rigsby.

"She did," confirmed Jane.

"You did that just with your voice?" Even Cho couldn't resist asking, his own voice laced with awe.

"Yes."

"You didn't lay a hand or—or _anything _on her?" Rigsby voice had gone so high it almost squeaked.

Jane hid his smile behind his hand. "Nope."

"Holy shit," said Rigsby under his breath.

"Indeed," replied Jane.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

An hour northeast of Sacramento, Lisbon turned into the Empire Mine State Park. Halfway up I-80, it had started to pour, wreaking further havoc with her cell phone reception as she'd driven further into the Sierra foothills, until she'd gotten no bars whatsoever. She threw her phone down into the empty passenger's seat in disgust, then leaned over the steering wheel so she could see through the sheets of rain beating against the foggy windshield. She flipped on the defrost and reluctantly let off the gas pedal, her speed dropping to forty-five.

Cherish had called, claiming she and a friend had taken Jane and were keeping him in an abandoned gold mine. If she would come alone, she'd give Lisbon the directions. They'd be watching, and if they saw anyone with her, Jane would be dead. Lisbon had given her word, heading for the park at a breakneck speed worthy of Jane himself. Then the weather had forced her to drive achingly slowly.

She was almost out of Sacramento before she had thought to try Jane's cell phone. It had gone straight to voicemail—not a good sign. Now that she was in the park, she regretted not planning something with Cho and the rest of the team, wondering what had gotten into her that she'd gone off half-cocked like this. Must be Jane's influence, she thought morosely. But after she'd seen how angry Cherish had been with both of them, how jealous she was of their blossoming relationship, Lisbon didn't know what the girl was capable of. She _feared _what she was capable of.

She remembered seeing Jane this morning, before she and the team had left in search of the deranged, wayward teen. He'd looked at her with such heated longing that it was all she could do not to pull him into her office and ravage him behind closed blinds. She loved him so much that it killed her to think of him hurt, or worse, God forbid.

The parking lot was deserted, and the sign that pointed down the trail leading to the mine was chained off. _Trail Washed Out, Mine Closed_, was the dire warning. She looked over at the Visitor's Center, and could just make out the _Closed_ sign on the door. It must have been raining for some time to close down a state park facility, she thought.

She wondered not for the first time if she had been sent on a snipe hunt, that Cherish had Jane somewhere in Sacramento, and she was walking into some sort of a sick trap. Too bad she couldn't use her cell phone to check. She fleetingly thought of driving into the nearest town, Grass Valley, and borrowing a landline. She could easily claim official police business. But she was here now, and had the feeling that time was of the essence.

She reached in the back of the SUV for her coat, pulling the hood up over her head, then drew out her gun from the glove box. With a deep breath, she stepped out into the blinding torrent.

**A/N: I know, perhaps a little OOC for Lisbon to rush off like that, but I like to believe she is a little blinded by love at this point, and totally freaked out by Cherish. I hope you'll bear with me on this one, and hang on for what's to come.**

**I also hope I find the time to reply to reviews this week. I hate not answering them—it goes against all the good manners my mother taught me. I do appreciate hearing what you think. It keeps me motivated to write, even when I'm writer's blocked or only have time to write a paragraph here and there.**

**Here's to hoping for another great NEW episode Sunday! See you for a tag, time willing.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thanks for hanging in there for my crazy story ideas. I honestly don't know where this stuff comes from. I'm touched at all the great, supportive reviews. Nice of you to suspend your disbelief and continue to read this fic. **

**Chapter 10**

By the time Lisbon reached the mine's entrance, she was soaked to the knees. The trail went over a footbridge, the stream beneath it breaching its banks. She'd had no choice but to slog through it on the other side, knowing as she did so how dangerous it was to try to cross a rushing stream, especially on foot. If Cherish had taken Jane a few hours ago, the water likely had not been as high. She only prayed that he was somewhere dry and safe right now.

The entrance to the old mine was merely a hole in what looked like a large mound of dirt, covered by a vertically slatted door, much like on a jail cell. A padlock was its only apparent barrier between the public and the darkness within. The lock was bright and shiny and new—a recent addition. She squinted through the rain at the sign to the right of the opening: _Mine temporarily closed to the public_. _Future site of The Empire Mine: Underground Experience. Opening 2014. _

That explained the construction equipment and tarp covered materials stacked to the side. She went closer to the door and peered inside, but could make out nothing. The State of California was apparently converting the mineshaft into an underground tourist attraction.

"Jane!" she yelled, hoping her voice would carry over the sound of the pouring rain. She pressed her ear to an open slat, but heard nothing. She called again, and feared the silence that followed. She would not be surprised if Cherish were setting her up, which was another reason she hadn't been willing to involve the team. They needed to find the little bitch and put her in a jail instead of a mental institution. Standing in the cold rain, Lisbon had lost her last shred of sympathy for the girl.

Taking out her Glock from beneath her dripping coat, Lisbon aimed at the lock. She pulled the trigger, the sound of the blast echoing loudly in the empty tunnel. The broken padlock swung there an instant before slipping out of its damaged loop and falling to the ground with a splash. Keeping her gun out, she pulled open the smoking door and walked inside out of the rain, pulling off the hood of her coat and shaking off the rain a bit like a wet dog. A shiver passed through her. She was dry on top beneath her coat, but her pants were soaked to the skin, making her legs feel heavy and cold.

She found a light switch on the wall just inside the door, but it didn't work. She looked as far down the tunnel as she could, but could only see darkness. Her key ring held a small but powerful LED flashlight, and she pulled it from her jacket pocket, flipping it on and lighting the tunnel before her. She called for Jane again, but heard no reply.

"Teresa," she muttered to herself. "What the hell are you doing? He's probably not even here."

But she couldn't take the chance that he wasn't. The thought of him hurt, or bound up in some sick, Cherish-crazy manner, made her stomach turn over, carried her feet further into the old cave, her boots squishing as she walked. The walls and ceiling were covered by wooden supports and the smell of rich, wet earth filled her nostrils. Beneath her feet, old metal rails for the mine cars were still deeply imbedded in the ground, and she walked gingerly between them. As she shone the light before her, she noted a wide tube hanging near the ceiling that she assumed would bring oxygen deep into the mine.

Lisbon had gone perhaps eight-hundred feet before she met a turn in the tunnel. She moved around the corner, only to find that the tunnel begin to slope downward at what felt like a steep thirty degrees. Something inside of her told her to go back, but for once in her life, she ignored it. She couldn't just rely on instinct this time; she had to be absolutely sure. Once again, Jane's name came to her lips, but she got nothing in return but a faint echo of her own voice.

At the same time the incline of the walkway increased, the rails ended, and she was suddenly walking on hard-packed earth. She was glad she wasn't claustrophobic, for the tunnel seemed to be narrowing considerably, the ceiling now rocky and getting closer to the top of her head. She shined her light up and was amazed to see that it was now just a foot above her. She reached up to touch it. Most miners would have felt compelled to duck to go on from here, and for once, Lisbon was glad for her diminutive height.

Later, Lisbon would marvel at the hapless chain of events that put her life in jeopardy. She would decide then that it was all the snake's fault (second, of course, to Cherish's), but when her boot brushed against the sleeping serpent, coiled against the wall minding its own business, all reason had fled, and she'd backed away in fright, the sudden, unmistakable rattling of the reptile's tail loud in the enclosed space.

She let out a sharp cry of surprised terror, moving her light and gun toward the creature just as it moved to strike. In the brief instant that she saw the snake, she noted several things. For one, it was the largest of its kind she'd ever seen—its partly coiled body appearing sickeningly heavy and as big around as her upper arm. The telltale diamond markings confirmed what the rattling had already told her—it was a western rattlesnake, angry and extremely poisonous. But these details didn't fully settle into her mind at first, for as the snake's triangular head darted out toward her, she was unable to think at all beyond getting the hell out of the way.

Her finger accidentally convulsed around the trigger, the muzzle flashing bright orange in the darkness. The shot went wide and useless, ricocheting off the floor, missing the snake completely and embedding in the wood-covered wall. The noise of the gun had been deafening and disorienting, but it didn't seem to affect the snake any; it quickly tensed in readiness to strike once more.

In an effort to escape the deadly fangs, Lisbon trotted backward, her eyes still trained on the snake, oblivious to the even greater danger that loomed behind her. She became caught in the momentum of her retreat, enhanced further by the sudden, steep incline of the path. Too late, she realized that she'd lost control of her footing, and knew with a deep sense of dread that she was about to fall on her ass. If the rattler pursued her, she'd be easy pickings unless she could get a bead on the thing in the blackness of the mine.

When she fell, though, it was not onto the hard rock of the mine floor, but into the soft netting of what at first her imagination told her was a giant spider web. Her hands flailed out to grab hold of something—anything—to stop her descent, losing her Glock in her useless flailing. And then, she was falling. Falling through the orange construction netting. Falling down the deep, main shaft of the Empire gold mine.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"There's her SUV," said Jane, driven to an extreme state of agitation the closer they'd gotten to the Empire Mine entrance. The rain had poured down in angry sheets, slowing their progress even more. Jane gripped the armrests of his seat, his mouth in a straight line. No one had spoken on the near ninety-minute drive, not even Rigsby, until Cho pulled into the parking lot beside Lisbon's vehicle.

"Where exactly did Cherish say she'd sent her," Cho asked, looking through the rain at the Visitor's Center.

"She said the Empire Mine," said Jane, wanting desperately to jump out and find her, but knowing it might yield better results if they coordinated their search. "I assume she meant the mine itself."

"Looks like that's the trailhead to it," said Van Pelt, pointing out the window to the sign Lisbon had noted earlier.

Rigsby squinted through the wet, foggy window. "There's a chain across the path. I think the sign says it's closed."

"That's the way she went then, knowing her," said Jane.

Cho nodded. "There are a couple flashlights in the glove box," he said, and Jane grabbed one, giving the other to Van Pelt.

"You and Van Pelt search the Visitor's Center buildings," instructed Cho, in command in Lisbon's absence. "Jane and I'll head toward the mine."

Cho opened the armrest console between the driver and passenger's seats. He brought out two Walkie-Talkies, and handed one to Rigsby, who slipped it inside his suit pocket. Without cell phone reception, it would be old school police work.

_Lisbon would like that_, Jane thought, nearly smiling despite his anxiousness to get going.

"Sing out if you find her," said Cho. "Meet us at the mine if you don't."

None of them had rain gear, so they knew this would be a wet, uncomfortable business. They all took a deep breath as if about to dive into a pool, and, putting Walkies and flashlights in pockets, all four doors opened at once.

They were all instantly soaked, but each took off at a run. Jane and Cho reached the footbridge, flooded now over both banks. Neither of them wanted to cross, but there was clearly no choice, and no time to find an alternate route downstream. They waded into the flood, Jane nearly slipping in the strength of the current, but catching the railing of the small bridge just in time, Cho following right after him.

"Jump as far as you can," yelled Cho, eyeing the other bank at the end of the bridge.

The thought of Lisbon, trapped somewhere in pain, gave Jane the courage to do it. He did fall this time, landing face down in the water, but managed to grab a bush high on the bank and pull himself out. He slicked back his hair from his eyes and turned to watch his partner. Cho nearly cleared the stream completely, but Jane grabbed his hand to help him the rest of the way. Cho nodded in gratitude, and they continued down the trail, barely visible through the ankle-deep water.

At the mine's entrance, they saw the evidence of Lisbon's breaking and entering, and they stepped in out of the rain, shaking just as Lisbon had done earlier. Jane brought the flashlight from his inside suit coat pocket, grateful it was one of those heavy, black metal models all the cops used. It could double as a club too, if necessary. He flicked the switch; the indestructible thing was apparently waterproof too.

"Lisbon!" called Jane, and both men stilled to listen.

When there was no answering call, Cho brought out his Walkie. "Rigs, you there?"

There was brief static, then the familiar voice replied. "Yeah. No sign of her here. The place is locked up tight."

"Looks like she's at the mine. You've got to cross a flooded creek to get here. I'd wait in the car if I were you. We'll call if we need help."

"Ten-four," said Rigsby, and Cho barely resisted rolling his eyes.

The men set off at a quick pace, Jane with the flashlight leading the way. They called Lisbon's name several times along the way, and Jane's heartbeat pounded in time with their footsteps, fearing that they were too late, that Cherish had actually set some sort of trap for her, despite her denial.

A gunshot close behind him made Jane nearly jump through the roof. He cowered and ducked instinctively, just as he felt the bullet zing past his leg.

"Snake," said Cho. Jane, speechless from shock, shone the light a few feet ahead. A tremendous rattlesnake lay writhing in its death throes.

"Son of a bitch," Jane said, empty hand clutching at his heart. "You nearly gave me a goddamn heart attack."

"Better than a snakebite," said Cho, and he grabbed the flashlight from Jane's shaking hands, taking the lead while stepping nonchalantly around the dying snake. "There might be more," the agent cautioned.

"Sheesh," said Jane, and gave the rattler a wide berth, running to catch up with Cho. He nearly ran into the man when Cho halted as the tunnel abruptly curved to the right. Cho directed the light so that they both saw how the way ahead narrowed and sloped scarily downward.

"Look," he said. In the glow of the beam they could see the faint outline of damp footprints in the silt-covered floor. Someone had been this way.

"Lisbon!" Jane called once more. And then: "Teresa! Please, answer me!"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was the sound of muffled gunfire that gave Lisbon hope, and she looked above her, though without her flashlight she could see only blackness. She was nearly neck deep in water, and she'd spent several unproductive minutes feeling around the mine shaft that was her prison. The rock walls were smooth and impossible to climb, and Lisbon knew she had fallen at least twenty feet into the cold water. The mine shaft was about eight feet wide, and she'd felt her way all around it, trying not to think about what might be occupying the space along with her. She'd felt with her foot that there was another tunnel leading off the from the side of this one, but she feared swimming down into it, knowing she might very likely get stuck and drown.

All she could do was pray that someone was able to make Cherish tell them where she was. She prayed also that Jane was okay, that the young woman's desire for vengeance hadn't led her to murder, or worse. God knew what kind of sick torture she might have in store for him. But her team was good at what they did. They'd find Jane, and then they'd find her.

But as an hour or more slipped by, she wondered if this would be where she died. It was certainly dark and black as a tomb. And It was cold in this water, so very cold. Her teeth began to chatter and she tried to get her circulation going by walking round and round the shaft, but it was difficult with the depth of the water and her sodden coat.

But Lisbon wasn't really afraid of dying. She felt at peace with God, and while she wasn't perfect, she knew that Heaven awaited her after she died. No, it was Jane she feared for most. It wasn't conceit to believe that her death would be devastating for him. She knew he loved her, felt it deep in her soul. Losing another woman he loved might send him over the edge, might even compel him to take his own life. She'd never been brave enough to ask him if a suicide attempt had put him in the mental institution after Red John had murdered his family, but she'd often wondered. In her faith, that was a mortal sin, and not for the first time she feared for his soul.

So when the report of the shot reached her ears, Lisbon began to scream at the top of her lungs. Her savior was somewhere at the top of this mine, and she knew in her heart it could only be Jane. She was so loud, in fact, that she didn't hear him calling back for her until a light shone down from above as if from the Lord Himself, and her golden haired angel spoke to her.

"All right, woman, you can stop your caterwauling—we heard you."

"Jane!" she sobbed over the renewed chattering of her teeth.

"You okay, Boss?"

And there was St. Cho as well.

She laughed through her tears. "I'm fine. Just feeling really stupid right now. Could you get me the hell out of here? I'm freezing!"

"We're going to need some rope, and I don't think there's any in the car," said Cho. "I'll root around in the construction equipment outside and see what I can find. Otherwise, I'll send Rigsby into town. Hang tight."

"Okay," she called.

When the light moved away from the opening above, she felt panic slam into her.

"Jane? Please, don't leave me!"

It was the closest she had come to saying she needed him for anything, since that long ago time when she'd asked him to hypnotize her.

"I'm here," he said, his own voice thick with emotion. "Cho needed the flashlight to find his way back out. I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. Are you really unhurt?"

"A few scratches, and I hit the back of my head on the side of the shaft as I fell, but I'm fine."

Jane sounded startled. "Did you black out?"

"No. It was just a bump. How did you find me?"

"Cherish told me. Well, after I hypnotized her," he admitted sheepishly.

"Good. I want that little psycho in jail for this."

"I don't blame you, but Lisbon…well, we'll talk about this later. So, I bet you're getting pretty pruny down there."

"In places you never would have dreamed," she replied.

He grinned, though he knew she couldn't see it. "How'd you get down there anyway?" he asked curiously. "It's not like there wasn't construction netting all over the place, and even a warning sign. I assume you had a flashlight."

Lisbon was glad for the dark to hide her burning cheeks. "Let's just say that it wasn't my finest moment."

"Cho found your Glock, by the way. Did something spook you? Something perhaps… long and fangy?"

"Oh, my God! Did you see that sucker? It struck at me! That's when I stumbled backward and—and wound up in here."

Jane chuckled. "Cho dispatched the varmint."

"That must have been the gunshot I heard."

"Yep."

They were both quiet a moment, each of them wishing they were in each other's arms, warm and dry and safe, like they had been—was it just this morning?

"I'm glad you're okay, Teresa," his voice floated down to her. "I—I nearly went crazy, imagining what might have happened to you in a gold mine, of all places. I have to say, though, I never in a million years imagined this."

"Oh, shut up," she said, and she felt her teeth begin to chatter anew. "And, I know what you mean. That bitch played us both."

"Well, she'll be out of our lives now for good. And we can pick up right where we left off this morning. See, I told you we should have stayed in bed."

"No you didn't."

"Well," he said. "Don't you wish we had?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Forty-five minutes later, Cho returned with the Grass Valley Police, medics, rope, and the rest of the SCU team. They'd put their SUV's in four-wheel drive and driven through the swollen creek to the mine entrance, Lisbon trying to overcome her mortification, both at the attention and being hauled up from the mine shaft on a rope. Lisbon was peeled out of her coat and a warming blanket thrown around her. It was Jane who carried her outside, her face hidden against his damp shirt, as he held her tightly to his body, kissing the top of her wet head in supreme gratitude.

"Thank God," said Van Pelt, when Lisbon and Jane emerged from the tunnel.

"Glad we found you, Boss," said Rigsby.

Thankfully it had stopped raining, and when they arrived back at the parking lot, she reluctantly allowed Jane to carry her from the SUV to the ambulance.

"You should go to the hospital," said the medic. "You might have a concussion from your fall, and mild hypothermia from being in that cold water so long."

"Yes, she's going," Jane answered for her, giving her a look that brooked no arguments.

Normally she would have protested his presumptive, controlling attitude, but for once, she merely smiled and nodded, and he reached out to take her cold hand in his.

**A/N: One more chapter, and this tale comes to an end. I hope to have it to you soon. First, however, there is another new episode tomorrow-a Red John centered one! I'm so excited! I hope to bring you a tag for that one. In the meantime, please log in and review! Thanks for reading.**

**P.S. Empire Mine is a real place, but since I've personally never been there, I took some liberties with the location and descriptions. I hope you don't mind.**


	11. Conclusion

A/N: Well, we've come to the end of another fic. There's some darkness here, but I hope you will find a bit of light to go with it.

**Chapter 11: Conclusion**

No concussion for Lisbon, just a bit of hypothermia and a few cuts on her hands obtained when she'd reached out to try to stop her fall. And, her head ached.

Sitting in the Emergency Room, with a too-long sweat suit and socks borrowed from Van Pelt's gym bag, a heated hospital blanket wrapped around her, Lisbon could feel that her body temperature had finally risen back to normal. Jane sat at the end of her bed, rubbing her feet—the last part of her body refusing to warm up.

"Funny how you turned out to be the one to have cold feet," he teased.

"Yes," she said. "The irony is not lost on me."

He continued to rub, looking up at her with a loving gleam in his eyes. He had shed his wet jacket and vest, but still wore his damp shirt and pants, and his feet were uncomfortably wet in his brown shoes. But he didn't care. Having Lisbon there, alive and safe, was all the warmth and comfort he needed.

"And I've heard of being up to your neck in _hot_ water…" he added.

She raised an eyebrow at his bad jokes. "Are you finished?"

He grinned. "Once I get you home, it'll be your turn to heat _me _up."

"Please, make it stop!" But she was smiling when she said it.

He abruptly stopped rubbing her feet.

"No," she almost whimpered. "Not that!"

He happily resumed his pampering, and she rested contentedly back against the pillows.

"You know what sounds like heaven to me?"

"Hm?" he said, just enjoying her nearness.

"A hot shower and a warm bed."

"That can certainly be arranged." She caught his wicked expression and blushed a little.

At that moment, the rest of the team arrived. They were all pleased to see the rosy glow on her cheeks.

"Ardiles called," said Cho. "He heard about the events at Empire Mine."

"And…?" Lisbon prompted.

"He wants to press another charge against Barto-making false statements to a state agent. He wanted to know if there was anything else you wanted to add."

Jane and Lisbon exchanged looks, and Lisbon sighed heavily. In her fit of anger at being at the bottom of a flooded mine shaft, she had thought of all kinds of ways she'd like to punish the Cherish—and she didn't mean in any way the masochistic girl would appreciate.

"No. And I'll call Ardiles to get him to drop that charge. The girl just needs help. If having kinky sex was all she'd done, I'd say live and let live. But falsely accusing someone for a kidnapping, vandalizing our cars, attempting to drug Jane, sending me on a wild goose chase—all that shows how troubled she really is. This girl has a lot of problems, but I think if she is given the chance, she might be able to straighten up. She's too young to be in prison with those tough women. She might never be saved."

Her team looked at her in disbelief. Neither of the men could imagine showing mercy toward such a bitch.

_Saint Teresa strikes again_, thought Cho.

As for Van Pelt, she seemed to understand Lisbon's decision. "I think you're right," she said. "Prison would harden her and maybe create something even worse when she got out."

Rigsby shot her a look that was somewhere between castigating her as a suck-up, and awe at her charitable viewpoint.

There was a brief awkwardness, in which the team keenly felt the intimacy hanging around their boss and consultant, Van Pelt smiling a little as Jane continued unabashedly to massage Lisbon's feet. They gave their excuses and well wishes and left Jane and Lisbon alone, just as a nurse arrived with Lisbon's discharge papers.

"You mean I'm sprung?" She said, happily signing and initialing where directed.

Jane grinned. "You're not the only one."

Lisbon flushed again at his adoring gaze.

Jane's brightest smile spread across his face, and the nurse caught her breath at its beauty. She took Lisbon's paperwork, shaking her head in wonder.

"Lucky girl," she murmured, her envious eyes on Jane.

"Yes," said Lisbon. "I know."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon got her shower (with Jane's help), but the warm bed came only with some grateful cuddling that night, the physical and emotional exhaustion lingering longer than the cold of their adventure in the mine. Jane spooned her flannel-clad body against his bare chest, his nose buried in her newly washed and dried hair, which smelled once more of coconut. He breathed her in like pure oxygen, glad beyond words that she was safe in his arms.

They'd swung by his motel room in the SUV he'd been borrowing to grab a change of clothes and a few toiletries. He hadn't been formally invited back to her apartment, but when she'd tiredly let him drive, and held his hand across the armrest as they left the hospital parking lot, Jane didn't think he was being too presumptuous. Not that it would have stopped him anyway.

"Lisbon," he whispered in the darkness.

"Hmm?"

"Do you love me?"

There was a moment's hesitation, and Jane smiled, knowing that she was a little surprised at his question, and, like the cop she was, she was analyzing any possible meaning behind it.

"Yes," she finally answered.

"Then swear to me you will never run off half-cocked without some sort of plan that involves backup. Least of all to save my sorry hide."

"No," she said. "Not unless you can promise the same."

She turned in his arms to face him, her fingers sliding into his hair. He chuckled.

"Never. You look up _half-cocked_ in the dictionary, and there you will find my picture."

He knew she was rolling her eyes. "I think you're also there beside _charlatan, manipulator, ass, jerk, egotist, liar_—"

He stopped her litany with a kiss, and she laughed against his mouth before the sweetness of his lips made her forget everything else. He drew away, but not before he felt the pulse skipping madly in her throat.

"And you, my smart-mouthed darling, are in there beside_ seductress_, and, paradoxically…_saint_."

"Is that the way you see me?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"Frequently-both at the same time."

"Well, I'm afraid I'm in no condition to be either at the moment."

She snuggled against his chest, and he felt her warm breath against his skin as she yawned again. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

"That's all right, my love. You deserve a break from both after the day you've had."

"Hmm," came her sleepy reply.

"You're warm and safe now. Go to sleep, my sainted seductress."

Jane held her until her breathing became even, and she slept trustingly in his arms. And then, much to his surprise, he too succumbed to the oblivion of peaceful slumber.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_One month later…_

Jane sat across from Cherish Barto in the common area of Sacramento County Center for Mental Health. She was thirty days into her ninety-day evaluation period, and in Jane's non-professional opinion, her stay seemed to have had a positive effect on her. She sat across the table from him, wearing soft knit pants and a t-shirt, her face devoid of makeup, her hair hanging down her back in a long, dark braid. She appeared much more serious, and genuinely contrite.

"I'm surprised to see you," she said softly, her hands nervously fingering a tissue.

"I promised I would visit."

"After what I did…I never expected to see you again."

He shrugged, dropping that line of conversation. "I'm just glad you're getting the help you need. The doctor says you've made a few breakthroughs."

"Yes." She averted her eyes a moment in embarrassment, then looked bravely up at him again. "You were right, Mr. Jane. But it was my uncle, not my father who…who abused me as a child."

Jane nodded. "I'm sorry. It's not too late to press charges against him."

She sighed. "Yes, it is. He died two years ago. My shrink says that's probably what triggered my…erratic behavior."

"I see."

"I was wrong to have lied to you, to have manipulated you and Agent Lisbon as I did. I hope you'll be able to forgive me someday."

"I'm no judge," he said simply.

She nodded her thanks. "I also remembered what happened when you hypnotized me. It came back to me about a week ago. We never had sex, did we?"

"No. Convincing you of that was the only way I could think of to get Lisbon's location out of you. I'm sorry it came to that."

"I don't blame you, Patrick. I was horrible back then. I don't deserve your mercy."

"I have discovered, Cherish, that seldom do any of us get what we truly deserve."

"Well, I must thank you anyway. And thanks for visiting me. I haven't seen anyone besides my mother in about two weeks. My friends stopped coming. I suppose they heard about everything that I did. I disgust them now."

"Then they are no true friends. When you get out of here, find new ones."

"I will, Patrick. Can I count you as one of them?"

"I've only ever wanted to help you. So yes, you may call me friend if you like."

They spoke another ten minutes of her therapy sessions and her hopes for the future. When he rose to leave, he let her hug him. There was definitely something different in the embrace-nothing sexual at all, but a bit of fear and desperation. When he pulled gently away, he saw that she was crying.

"You're a good man, Patrick Jane," she said, smiling through her tears. She wiped self-consciously at her eyes with her wadded up tissue. "Please send my apologies to Agent Lisbon. And I-I hope you two are very happy together."

"We are," he said. "Good luck, Cherish."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Four months after that…_

After five months of living together, Jane should have been used to being interrupted at inopportune moments. When the call came, he'd been kissing his way down Lisbon's flat stomach, both of them breathing heavily in anticipation.

"Don't answer that," he said, his tongue circling her navel. Her hands tightened briefly in his hair, and then, with a disappointed groan, she rolled away from him to answer her cell phone.

"Lisbon," she said breathlessly.

Jane moved to her back, resuming his kisses down her straight spine. She shivered and attempted to slap him gently away. He just chuckled and continued while she spoke into the phone. He was amazed at the steadiness of her voice as she gave orders to Cho. Well, we couldn't have that. His hands snaked around to cup her breasts, and he pressed his erection against her bottom. She drew in a sharp breath, and he chuckled softly in triumph.

Then her body stilled, and her hand came down to stay his on her breast. Jane stopped distracting her, and focused belatedly on what she was saying.

"They're sure it's her? Okay. We'll be right there."

"Who is it?" Jane asked, a feeling of horrible dread settling into the pit of his stomach.

Lisbon sat up and flicked on the bedside lamp. Jane blinked in the sudden brightness as Lisbon turned to him.

"It's Cherish Barto. They found her body in a house in Carmichael. She'd been strangled."

"Oh," was all he could manage.

He rolled to the other side of the bed and stood, reaching for his clothes where he'd tossed them over a chair earlier. They both dressed in silence, and left Lisbon's apartment ten minutes later.

They arrived at the townhouse Cho had given as an address, and already police cars and a CSU van were parked in the driveway. The summer night was warm and balmy, a full moon hanging low in the sky. Van Pelt met them and walked with them inside.

"This was another empty rental house owned by her mother," Van Pelt explained, "like the last one we'd found her in. Someone called in an anonymous tip."

She led them up the stairs to one of three bedrooms. The forensics unit was still taking pictures and gathering evidence.

"Would you give us a minute, guys," said Lisbon, flashing her badge. The men departed, but seemed a little miffed to have their work interrupted.

Jane took in how the room had been decorated in a tacky jungle theme. Framed velvet pictures of leopards and tigers hung on the walls, and the unmade bed sported a leopard-patterned duvet. Upon the thickly shagged, avocado green carpet lay Cherish, naked, her delicate throat mottled by the obvious imprints of large, male hands. But what was most disturbing about her was her bulging, wide-open blue eyes, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. Ruby-red blood from her hemorrhaged eyeballs dried on her cold, pale cheeks.

Jane felt his heart lurch as he looked at her.

"Mother of God," said Lisbon softly behind him. She watched Jane squat beside the girl's body, his golden mane bending low to examine her throat.

He looked up at Lisbon and Van Pelt, his eyes grim. "Erotic asphyxiation would be my guess," he said.

Cho and Rigsby had joined them, moving into the room to look sadly down at the young woman's horrible end. They'd overheard Jane's pronouncement.

Cho nodded in agreement. "That was my thought too."

"I can't believe people get off on being nearly choked to death," added Rigsby. "This is how tragic accidents happen."

"Poor girl," said Van Pelt.

Jane rose. "Has her mother been notified?"

"Not yet," said Cho.

Jane definitely didn't want to be a part of that. He'd had enough of informing parents that their children were dead.

"I'll go," volunteered Van Pelt.

"You want company?" asked Rigsby.

"Please."

Lisbon nodded, and the pair left to fulfill their dreaded duty.

"Any progress in tracing the anonymous tip?" she asked Cho.

"Yeah. The cell number was traced to Jimmy Roberts. Sac PD is picking him up."

Lisbon and Jane looked at each other, startled at this announcement.

"Maybe it was murder after all," said Lisbon. "She ruined his life, his reputation."

Jane looked again at the dead girl. "I'm sure your coroners will have a more professional opinion, but I maintain it was a sexual fetish gone wrong. She was an addict, Lisbon; so is Roberts. It was an accident, or he wouldn't have called."

"You up to questioning him?" she asked.

"Nah, Cho can handle it. If you don't mind, I'm going to sit this one out."

He brushed past the remaining agents, went down the hall and out to the Citroen, newly painted and gleaming beneath a streetlight.

Lisbon caught up with him.

"Can you get a ride with Cho?" he asked numbly.

"Sure. Jane—"

"Another little girl, lost, Lisbon," he said mournfully, his eyes on the moon.

"But we did our best to help that girl, despite how screwed up she was. It could have gone either way, honestly. But you're right; she was addicted to this lifestyle. More often than not, addicts go off the wagon the moment they're free from jail. Cherish was another sad case of that, even though her prison was a mental health facility."

He sighed heavily, and leaned back against his car for support.

"Is it wrong of me to be grateful sometimes that Charlotte doesn't have to see this miserable world we live in?"

Going against all her rules of professional conduct, Lisbon leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his torso and laying her head on his chest. His heart beat strongly beneath her ear, and she felt overwhelmed with love for this man, who often hid his deeply held pain behind sardonic remarks or a blinding smile.

"No. If I were a parent, I would want to protect my child from the horrors of the world."

She heard his heart jump a bit. "Do you _want_ to be a parent, Lisbon?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "I was afraid to ask how you'd feel about that."

"I don't know how I feel. I never even considered the possibility. Until now."

His arms came up to hold her tightly. This was a strange conversation to have, outside the house of a crime scene.

"It would be my chance to do so many things differently."

She didn't contradict him. Whenever she'd observed him over the years with children, it had always both warmed her heart and constricted it at the same time. He adored children, and she had no doubt that he'd been a wonderful father. Back then, he just hadn't had his priorities straight. But she knew Jane wouldn't make the same mistakes again, not with their child.

"I'm ready when you are," she said, feeling her own heart accelerate. "You know, biological clock and all."

He smiled and drew back to find her lips. "You'll be the first to know," he said, his eyes sparkling down at her.

"Boss," called Cho from the porch. "Sorry, but CSU needs to ask you something."

"I'll be right there," she replied. She looked up at Jane, her brow knit in concern. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Yes," he said. "I'll see you at home."

She gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"Home," she said with a shy smile. "That sounds really good. I love you, Patrick."

He smiled at the rare use of his first name. "And I love you, Teresa."

He watched her hurry back to the house, all business once more. They both had felt loss in their lives, both had made mistakes. The lost little girl that had been Cherish Barto had brought them together, had made them realize that what they could build together was healthy and strong, not clouded over by the sins of their past.

For once in his life, Patrick Jane was able to find the good in tragedy. With Lisbon by his side, everything from here onward was sure to be nothing but good.

**THE END**

A/N: Thank you for reading and supporting this story. I hope you enjoyed it. There's more ahead for me in this fandom, including multi-chapter fics and episode tags. As long as I'm inspired and you're reading them, I'll try to keep them coming. If you don't want to miss any of my upcoming stories, please put me on author alert. See you back here again soon!


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